The Spider
by Sandylee007
Summary: The team's newest case brings back a monster from Dr. Spencer Reid's past. He's determined to protect his team but secrets are bound to come out. And when they do the team is left wondering if they ever really knew their youngest at all. REID WHUMP
1. A Spider's Bite

A/N: When I first got the request for this fic I nearly started jumping with joy because I fell in love with the idea. (grins) I just couldn't stop myself from diving right in. I really hope that the final product turns out alright! (gulps nervously)

DISCLAIMER: Oh, if only… But nope, no profit is made out of typing this and I own absolutely nothing of the series except for the DVD-collections I've bought. **And to anyone wondering…** Despite my immense adoration towards 'Sherlock', this Spider of this story isn't Moriarty. (chuckles)

WARNINGS: Gore, whump, violence… Adult themes. Language. Uh, anyone still out there…?

Alright, because starting out a new story is always nerve wrecking… Let's go! I truly hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

**_The Spider_**

* * *

A Spider's Bite

* * *

In general Dr. Spencer Reid loved his job, despite all the horrors he had to face. But sometimes he had a persistent bad feeling before they even started working on a case. That morning he most definitely had such when he marched into the very much familiar conference room.

Or maybe he was just tired. Nightmares kept him awake almost the entire night before and he didn't have the time to consume enough coffee before they were called in. All he wanted to do was to go back to sleep.

It didn't look like he was the only one who'd had a long night, though. Derek Morgan dragged himself into the office with exhausted eyes and heavy limbs. The man emitted a groan and rubbed his face roughly while slumping to a chair. Spencer couldn't stop a grin.

It was, however, David Rossi who spoke. "Well someone's been having fun. First date?"

"No", Aaron Hotchner corrected while entering the room with a mug of coffee. The unit chief's expression was his usual but there was a spark of mischief in the man's eyes. "Third."

David smirked. Even had the nerve to pat Derek on the shoulder. "Well how about that…! Is the bureau's most sworn bachelor settling down?"

Derek gave them a dry look. One corner of his lips twitched, though. "What happened to the 'not profiling each other' rule?"

"It's only a sign that we love you, sweetie", Penelope Garcia advised while arriving with a thick file. The look on her face made the room's mood drop significantly. She exhaled a shuddering breath while preparing the computer and herself. "So… We have a new case. Here in Virginia, actually. Four dead men, all murdered into their homes."

"Any connection?" Aaron asked instantly.

Penelope shook her head. "No obvious one so far." She showed them the first picture. A visibly athletic man with military style cut black hair and, presently, glazed over, dead brown eyes. "The first victim. Alex Brundy, thirty-five. Came back from his tour in Iraq two weeks ago and was murdered the following day. Unmarried." Another picture. This time a slightly smaller yet clearly physically fit man with slightly overgrown blond hair and lifeless greyish blue eyes. "Walter Burrows, forty-one. High school physics teacher. Married with two children." The third victim was larger than the other two and it was easy to see that he'd put up a mighty fight for his life. Still the mocha skinned, bald man lay on the floor dead. "Ian Nichols, thirty-eight. Security guard. Engaged." The fourth man looked like he'd fought as well. There was blood staining his brown hair and notably tall frame. Yet his green eyes were as devoid of life as the others'. "Charles Ollen. As far as I could gather he worked as a consultant for the police but there was a lot in his history that I didn't have the authorization to take a look at."

Derek shook his head with a frown of confusion. "They were all in a incredibly good shape. How did one man take them down?"

While the others focused on a new, dawning case all Spencer could do was stare. Barely breathing. Feeling like he'd been falling from somewhere incredibly high without a safety net. Because his mind carried him to the past.

He'd seen all of this before. The little signs the rest of his team was only just discovering. Those victims. Possibly even the killer.

_It can't be_, he told himself. _He's dead. You made sure of that yourself._ Didn't he?

But the pictures didn't go anywhere. Nor did the horrible feeling tingling on his skin. This time he didn't wake up from the nightmare.

By the time he came back to himself the others had noticed something. "He's already developed his own signature." Penelope appeared more than a little nauseated but went on anyhow. "The killer… He removes their fingertips."

"That's not the only signature." David didn't seem any more pleased than she did while pointed towards the picture currently on display. "See that? Those two, tiny holes on the arm? There's similar on every victim."

Jennifer Jareau frowned. There was a degree of shock on her pale face. "What are those? Needle marks?"

The whole world spun in front of Spencer's eyes. It felt like his whole body had been on overdrive and shutting down at the same time. "A spider's bite", he breathed out.

"Spence?" There was a great deal of worry on JJ's face. "Are you okay? You look like you'd seen a ghost."

In some other situation Spencer might've snorted at the bitter irony. He gave a weak and thin smile that most definitely didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just… A little headache."

The rest of them didn't appear entirely convinced. But they had a case to focus on. Aaron took a deep breath before speaking. "This is a local case but may take a while to solve. Chief Rhyes from the local police will meet us in four hours for a further report. You have until then to catch your breaths and make all necessary preparations."

Dodging the worried looks darted his way Spencer fled as fast as he possibly could, determined to not answer another question. It was impossible to say if he was running towards or away from something. What he did know was how he'd spend his four hours.

* * *

Standing behind the tightly locked door of a high security mental institution Spencer felt unbearably cold while dread swell in every little bit of him. His anxiety wasn't caused by the sick, disturbed and dangerous minds locked inside, though. What worried him was a particular mind that might still linger outside.

In the end a large, dark skinned man wearing a guard's uniform came to escort him inside. They exchanged barely a word aside the man demanding to see his ID, which suited Spencer just fine. He wasn't exactly in the mood for talking.

The journey to the correct ward and the multiple security checks along the way seemed to take ages. Several times Spencer considered changing his mind. In the end he pushed himself through, reminding himself that he had to do this for the sake of his team.

Eventually Spencer was taken to a closet sized room that had a thick, transparent wall separating its two sides. He barely noticed the guard leaving him or the security camera hanging from the ceiling, monitoring his every move. All his focus locked on his companion.

On the other side of the glass, wearing a patient's outfit, sat a man in his late thirties with a pair of piercing blue eyes and shortcut brown hair. The patient could've easily been mistaken for a businessman. Spencer knew better.

He'd seen what those hands and the mind behind those eyes were capable of.

For a moment the man stared at him until recognition dawned. A ice cold smirk appeared. "Well, well… Look what the cat brought in." The prisoner leaned closer, tilting his head before speaking in a smooth voice that was thick with Irish accent. "I should feel insulted, really. All those years and not a single visit. You didn't even bother to send me a postcard."

Spencer's eyes narrowed while adrenaline took over, bringing back a person he'd imagined buried a lifetime ago. "Cut the crap, Napoleon", he growled. "You know why I'm here."

Napoleon's grin widened. Clearly the man was enjoying the situation immensely. "Well of course I do. For some reason the screws let me watch the news. I was wondering how long it'd take before you'd realize."

Spencer's heart stopped for a couple of seconds. Then stumbled back into motion in a way that hurt like hell. "He's still alive."

Napoleon rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously. Did you all imagine that it was really over?" The prisoner leaned so close that if it wasn't for the glass separating them they would've felt each other's breaths. Their eyes met and held. "He's back, Spencey. And he's very, very upset with you."

That was all the information Spencer needed. He got up, doing his best to hide the way his hands trembled. Somehow his face remained a well schooled, stony mask while he turned and began to leave, his heart thundering in his chest.

Just before he was out Napoleon spoke once more. "Good luck, Spencey. You'll need it. Don't let the spider bite."

The door slamming closed sounded far too much like a final verdict.

As soon as he made it to his car Spencer allowed all facades to drop. He buried his face into both hands, fighting furiously to get his breathing back under control. His blood was speeding on at such speed that the sound filled his ears and he had to fight furiously against throwing up.

No. No, no, _NO_. This couldn't be happening…

Yet it was and he had to prepare himself for the toughest battle of his entire life.

He was so deep in his chaotic thoughts that the sound of his cell phone startled him. He groaned upon discovering who the caller was. "So the micro chip is still functioning."

"_What were you doing visiting Napoleon?_"

Spencer gritted his teeth. Then spat out the words like they'd been poison. "He's alive."

"_I know._" The other went on before he got the chance to utter a word. "_Come here immediately. We have a lot to talk about._"

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh boy… It's seems like we've got quite a monster coming out of hiding…

Sooo… Was that any good at all to you? Would you like to read more? In any case, thank you so much for reading!

Who knows, maybe we'll be crossing paths again…?

Take care!


	2. The Fine Art of Building a Web

A/N: Yup, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack, and it's time for a brand new update! (grins) But, first things first…

Oh… my gosh! I'm genuinely baffled by how many friends the very first chapter of this story managed to snatch. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, listings and support! (HUGS)

I really, REALLY hope that you'll enjoy what's to come just as much! Because it's show-time.

* * *

The Fine Art of Building a Web

* * *

/ _Spencer stopped believing that there were monsters hiding under his bed when he was six years old. The whole idea simply began to feel far too illogical. He started believing in monsters again when he was eighteen._

_Spencer was sitting at the university's library, busily working on his thesis, when he felt that he was no longer alone. Curious and alarmed, he lifted his gaze to see a man in a long, black coat. The stranger's shortcut, dark brown hair looked like he'd just walked through wind and those nearly black eyes were looking at him with a great deal of curiosity._

_Noticing that he'd been spotted the man began to move closer. With a smooth motion he placed a call card to the table in front of Spencer. "Congratulations on your degree, Dr. Reid", a velvet like voice that held a thick northern accent praised. "I've heard a lot of great things about you."_

_Spencer blinked once. Was this man mistaking him for someone else or…? "Uh… Thank you", he muttered. He frowned. "Do we know each other?"_

_"Not yet. But I was hoping that we'd learn to. You have a lot of expertise that I'd have plenty of use for." With a pleasant smile on his face the man began to leave. "Have a good day, Dr. Reid." With that the stranger walked away, not casting a single glance backwards._

_Feeling far more than a healthy amount of curiosity Spencer took the card and gave it a look. At first he could only stare in disbelief. Then his eyes widened._

_'_SA Unit Chief Ian Hollard

CIA_'_

_There was also a phone number. Perhaps Spencer had watched too many spy movies but he had a feeling that it'd only function for a while. That's why he decided not to waste a second._

_How in the world was he supposed to know just how dangerous the chase after boogeymen could be?_ /

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Every single gunshot found its mark perfectly. Spencer watched the holes on black and white cardboard with satisfaction he hadn't expected. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, giving him a rush the kind no amount of Dilaudid would've been able to produce.

With his whole body on alert and his ears sharpened he caught the sounds of approaching steps easily. "Well, well. So to prodigal son returns", a female voice he hadn't heard in years commented somewhat flatly, carrying a easily traceable edge of hurt. Peering over his shoulder he found a woman of his age with long, blonde hair and the sharpest green eyes he'd ever seen. "Years and years of complete silence. And now you decide to waltz in?"

Spencer sighed. A part of him wanted to offer an apology but he knew that it would've been pointless. "You know why I'm here, Leah", he sighed, frustration and guilt seeping through.

Leah scoffed. "Almost our entire team has been butchered. I should think that it's obvious." She then focused on his target board, one eyebrow arching. "So you still have a mean aim."

Spencer shrugged. He lowered his gun slowly, as though expecting something or someone to attack. "It's all physics", he pointed out. "Hitting a target is easy, especially when it's immobile." It was living with the results of some shots that was the hard part. But he didn't need to tell her, of all people, that.

The woman nodded, still admiring his work with thoughtful eyes. "You're such a perfectionist. It must've been murder for you to pretend that you barely know how to hold a gun."

Spencer gritted his teeth, unwilling to admit such vainness in him although she was right. Years and years ago it was frustrating to play the role of a rookie agent who didn't know how to defend himself, with or without a gun. And he almost gave himself away during the hostage situation he ended up into with Aaron. Someone who a blink ago couldn't hit a damned thing suddenly landing the perfect shot? He was still surprised that he got away with it as easily as he did.

But everyone, sans the killer, made it out alive so he couldn't say that he cared much.

As it was they had far more important matters at hand than to dwell on the past and grudges. Spencer took a deep breath, finally holstering his gun. "He's…"

"… alive. Yes, I know." Leah's eyes flashed hazardously. "We should've known that the son of a bitch would pull a fast one on us."

Spencer nodded. Yes, he too should've known to expect as much. Unpleasant memories flooded through his head, making his eyes darken. "How are we going to kill him?" Because he wasn't planning on fooling himself. There was no way of capturing a monster like this alive.

"Simple. He's already coming for us so we'll make sure that there's a web of our own waiting for him", Ian Hollard's familiar voice sounded from behind them. The man's face held barely a trace of emotion, apart from the hint of softness in his eyes. "I'm glad that you came so fast after my phone call, Spencer. Despite the circumstances it's good to see you again." 'Alive and well' was unvoiced but present.

Spencer nodded, overcome by another surge of memories. The last time they met he was at the ICU, barely hanging on to whatever little life he had left. All things considered it was a miracle that they both stood there alive.

His former unit, of which only the three of them now remained, used to be Spencer's whole family. He wasn't planning on failing his new family as well. "My team… It's after him and they don't have any idea of who and what he is yet. They… They don't know anything. About my past, about what I've done, about you all." He swallowed loudly, unable to fully overcome the dull, throbbing pain in his chest. "We already lost almost all of our team. I have to protect those I have left."

Ian shrugged. "How you choose to handle this is entirely up to you. Just remember the policy. Our cases were always highly classified, including his. If questions ever rise we'll deny that you've worked for this agency." The man's eyes flashed. "But in any case he'll be headed after us next. We'll have to catch him before he gets us."

* * *

As it turned out chief Lincoln Rhyes was a slightly overweighed, rapidly balding and quite unpleasant man with the sharpest blue eyes the team had ever seen. The man couldn't reveal a whole lot that they wouldn't have known already. In the end they agreed that JJ and David would interview the victims' families. Derek decided to go to the morgue where Walter Burrows' body was still being processed. Spencer was more than happy to accompany him to get away from chief Rhyes who seemed to be keeping an eye on him.

While they walked towards the morgue Derek gave Spencer a quick, evaluating look. His forehead wrinkled at what he saw. "You've been awfully quiet since we were handed this case", he noted. "Are you okay?"

Spencer blinked twice, like waking up from a dream, then nodded. "Yeah, of course. Just… I've got a headache, like I already said."

Derek wasn't buying the flimsy excuse. He sighed. "Well… If it's something beyond a headache you do know that you can tell me, right?"

Before Spencer had the time to respond they'd already reached the morgue. The first thing they saw was a small and slim female coroner who'd dressed meticulously to her uniform. Well, almost. One strand of long hair that'd been dyed with electric blue had broken free stubbornly. Hearing their steps she turned her head, revealing a pair of large hazel eyes that were covered in heavy make up. _Far too beautiful for this job_, Derek decided. She couldn't be older than twenty-nine but her posture spoke of long job experience. "Ah, you must be the agents. I'm Nikki." She frowned. "I'm working on the report, I promise. But I'd rather make it throughout before sending it to the police."

Derek smiled in a far from coy manner. He had to admit that he enjoyed watching the woman far more than he should've, especially considering that she was currently working on a corpse. "There's no rush", he reassured her. Then, deciding to distract himself before things would get uncomfortable, he forced himself to focus on the body. "What's the cause of death?"

"Multiple broken bones, ruptured organs and a punctured lung. To be honest it'd be easier to list what inside this man isn't smashed." Nikki sighed, her eyes examining the body. "As you've probably been told this man put up one hell of a fight. To be honest I was surprised when I found out that he was a professor. See that?" She pointed towards the damaged skin on his knees, feet, knuckles and arms. "The defensive techniques he seems to have used are above such I've seen on martial arts experts."

Derek's eyebrow bounced up. A shiver shot through him although he wasn't fully sure why. "Well… He took his karate lessons, then."

The coroner shook her head. "Sorry, but it's not that simple. I've taken five kick boxing lessons a week for the past ten years and there's no way I'd manage anything even close to what this victim did. The skills this man showed… They go far beyond anything that's taught legally here in US." She mused for a moment, then pursed her lips. "I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, okay? But if I were you I'd check clinics and emergency rooms. Because whoever murdered this poor guy needed medical attention afterwards." Just then her pager bleeped. Something close to excitement could be seen in her eyes when she read the brief note. "The toxicology report on victim four was just finished. I'll go and give it a look."

Derek nodded. "Let us know as soon as you have, yeah? I'll go and ask Garcia to check up on emergency rooms." Worry swirled inside him when he glanced towards Spencer. The man was even paler than usual and seemed to be squeezing the coroner's table for dear life. "Reid? Do you need to get some air?"

Spencer shook his head. There was a nearly dazed look in the younger agent's eyes. "No, I… I'll just wait here. See you in a bit."

On most days Derek might've called his friend out on such an obvious lie. But they were in the middle of a case and with company so he let it slide. For a moment, at least. With another nod he left the room.

Once he was outside Derek came to the conclusion that perhaps he'd been focusing on the coroner a bit too intently. Because at some point his cell-phone had slipped from his pocket. With a groan he made his way back to the room he'd just left. And froze to the doorway.

Thinking that he was alone Spencer had, apparently, let his guard drop. None of them spilled yet but quite a bit of tears shone in the genius' eyes while the man stared at the corpse. The younger man's whole tall frame was shaking miserably. His lips were moving with inaudible words. Derek was able to read a few from Spencer's lips.

"… I'm so sorry, Walter …"

Derek's heart thumped and his head buzzed. Neither helped him regain any clarity. He could only stare with wide, confused eyes.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

Aaron wasn't the type of a boss who let people get away with disrespecting his team. So, after observing the way chief Rhyes acted towards his agents, he decided to confront the man. He got his chance when the others headed off on their separate ways.

His knock was firm and he didn't give Rhyes long to answer before entering the man's office. The chief looked at him with some surprise. "Agent Hotchner?"

Aaron's jaw tightened. "You've been hostile towards my team. And I'd like to know why."

"I apologize if I've seemed rude. But there's a reason why I behaved the way I did. I was hoping that you'd come to talk to me, actually." The man looked at him with stern, very serious eyes. "There's something I didn't feel comfortable with showing you in front of one of your colleagues. These were found from the scenes of each murder." The man handed him four evidence bags.

With a frown on his face and a great deal of dread in his chest Aaron accepted the items. He had to inhale deeply before he dared to face them. Once he did the entire world spun in front of him for a mighty while.

The first item was a scarf he easily identified as Spencer's. It could've been nothing but a nasty coincidence if it wasn't connected to the other items. Next he saw a quite beautiful, golden wedding ring. Upon closer inspection he saw the name engraved inside.

'_Spencer_ _Reid_'

Aaron felt his mouth go dry. Confusion mutated into something far, far deeper. Spencer, married? When the hell…?

And then he saw the next piece of evidence. It was a passport. Upon a brief and even longer glimpse there was nothing suspicious to it. That was until he saw the picture and the name. Because right there, looking back at him, was a face that definitely belonged to Spencer. But the name most certainly wasn't his.

'_Alexandre_ _Romnin_'

A forged passport? What would Spencer have needed one for? None of the options that came to his mind sounded pleasant. The dark feeling rising inside him definitely didn't ease at all when he peered into the final bag.

What looked back at him was a picture. It represented each and every single one of the four victims, along with a man and a woman he'd never seen before. And Spencer. They were all smiling while they looked into the camera.

Aaron's hands trembled while he followed his instincts and turned the bag to see the other side of the photograph. Sure enough, in ominous red words had been written there. The handwriting was curvy and beautiful, which provided a stark contrast to the rest of the situation.

'_Are you sure that you know him?_

_Be careful with who you trust._'

Aaron looked at chief Rhyes with hard, demanding eyes. His heart was beating so hard that it hurt. "What is this?" Because to him it looked like someone was working hard to connect Spencer with the kills.

Chief Rhyes shook his head, appearing just as solemn as he did. "It's still too early to say what they're all about or if they're just an attempt to distract us, but… If I were you I'd definitely be careful."

* * *

After fifteen hours of tireless work the team was finally told to go and get some rest. It took Spencer quite long to make it home. As soon as he entered his apartment he got a feeling that something wasn't right. As though to confirm his worries his cell-phone began to ring.

He hesitated for several seconds before grabbing the item. The number was such that he couldn't recognize and he had a feeling that even Penelope wouldn't have been able to trace it. He picked up after a deep breath. "Hello?"

For a while it was silent. Then a entirely too familiar, velvet smooth voice began to sing to him. "_The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the water spout… Down came the rain and washed the spider out…_"

Spencer's heart forgot entirely what it was supposed to do. His whole body froze, to a point where he couldn't be sure that blood was still running through his veins. Inhumane cold filled absolutely all of him.

"_Out came the sun and dried up all the rain… And the itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the spout again._" The caller chuckled almost good naturedly, as though hearing his shock. "_Now why did you stop breathing all of a sudden, Spencer? Aren't you glad that I'm still alive?_"

Spencer scoffed. "I killed you myself", he growled like a dangerous wild beast. _And nearly myself in the process._ "I wasn't able to examine your body myself but I was there at your funeral to make sure that you were really dead. I watched them bury you."

"_Yes, I know. I was there, too._" The other man clicked his tongue. "_You didn't seem to be feeling well, you poor thing. Didn't they have to take you right back into the hospital? I wanted to send you flowers but I was worried that it might… ruin the surprise. Your doctor was quite firm when announcing that you shouldn't be agitated so I respected his wishes. I couldn't take the risk of losing my favorite playmate, now could I?_"

So the monster had been there, not quite beside his hospital bed but far too close, talking to the staff and watching him. While he was at his most vulnerable. Even the thought sickened Spencer.

"_You gave me some mighty scars, too. It seems that we gave each other our best marks._" The man was almost purring but the voice held a dangerous undertone. "_I'm looking forward to inspecting your war wounds myself._"

Spencer's eyes narrowed. A familiar rush of adrenaline took over. "Then come and find me."

"_You know … I don't think so. Because I have a feeling that you may be coming after me._" This time there was a clearly audible threat. "_You see, a couple of days ago I had a very nice conversation with your mother. She was lucid for once, you see. She's so very proud of you, the poor thing. And just today I had a little chat with Henry. It's unbelievable how fast children grow, isn't it?_"

Spencer quite literally saw red. He balled his fist so hard that it was a miracle no skin was damaged. "Stay the hell away from them!" he snarled at the top of his lungs.

"_Ouch, did I hit the nerve?_" The monster chuckled. "_It's entirely up to you, really. I'll leave them alone if you come and keep me from getting bored._" There was a sound Spencer couldn't recognize. It took a couple of seconds before the other went on. "_I'm afraid that I have to go but before that, let's make this game fair and honest. I'm giving you the same warning I delivered Aaron. Be careful with who you trust._" Then, as an afterthought, the criminal added. "_Oh, and Spencer? Do wear that purple shirt more often. It looks stupendous on you._" With those ominous words the phone call was over.

Spencer's eyes widened a fraction while those words registered to him. That monster… was able to see him. Was watching him at that very moment.

He turned his head as quickly as he could, instinctively searching the opposite apartment building with his gaze. In the end his gaze locked on a certain third floor apartment. The lights were off but he saw a curtain move.

Spencer didn't bother to dash for a chase. He knew, from unfortunate experience, that the killer was already long gone. Instead he dialed numbers, stunned by how steady his hands was. The one he called responded almost instantly.

"It's on", he announced.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Additional disclaimer: To anyone wondering... Nope, I haven't written nor do I own that lullaby. (grins)

And those those wondering... Fret not, I'm not expecting you to remember all the OCs' names. (chuckles) I'll type in a tiny reminder if/when they might pop up.

Oh boy…! It looks like everyone's got their very own web started out. The question goes, whose catches the prey first? And what more do we have to learn about Reid's mysterious past?

Soooo, was that any good at all in your book? You know how to let me know. (winks)

Until next time, folks!I really hope that you'll all stay tuned for that one.

Take care!

* * *

**Guest**: We'll see, we'll see. The answer shall be revealed as soon as in the next chapter.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

* * *

**Sniper**: (I'm responding to you in English to avoid confusion.) (smirks sheepishly)

Quite a bit of mystery, no? It seems that Spencer has a long and messy history behind him. And a monster on his tails… As for the caller, the next chapter reveals a tiny bit.

I really hope that the next chapter turns out worth the wait.

Huge thank yous for the review!


	3. The Emergence of a Boogeyman

A/N: Yup, it's definitely time for another chapter. (grins)

BUT, first…! My gosh! It's BAFFLING how many friends this story seems to have obtained. THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your reviews, listings and love! (HUGS) I'll definitely do my best to make this story worthy of your expectations.

Awkay, because I know what you're here for… Let's go! I truly hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

The Emergence of a Boogeyman

* * *

/ _When Spencer first reached the address Ian Hollard gave him during their brief phone call he imagined that he'd been mistaken or pranked. Because the storage building he entered with reasonable caution seemed nothing short of abandoned._

_The illusion lasted until he heard a threatening baritone. "You really, really should be more careful when you sneak in like that." Spinning around he saw a somewhat small yet clearly physically fit man with slightly overgrown blond hair and at the moment curious greyish blue eyes. The stranger was sitting on a metallic railing almost directly above him. What truly caught his attention, however, was the knife the other was toying with. "I could've hurt you with this thing." Something told Spencer that the man might've very well done just that._

_Spencer paled for a moment. "I'm… Spencer Reid. I was looking for agent Hollard." He showed an ID, just to be safe. "Did I… come to the right place?"_

_"So you must be the new whiz kid boss has been going on about." The other man smirked and jumped down. "Well, kid… I'm Walter Burrows. Welcome to the Boiler Room."_ /

* * *

Monsters and ghosts from the past kept Spencer awake the rest of the night. That's why he reacted instantly when his cell-phone bleeped at five past seven in the morning. It was a text from Derek.

'_Be ready in fifteen. I'll give you a ride to the station_.'

With a loud, heavy sigh that didn't help him relax at all Spencer sent his response, then headed to the shower. As soon as he came back, a towel wrapped around his waistline, there was a new message waiting for him. This time it was from Aaron.

'_Come to the station as soon as you can. We need to talk_.'

Spencer stared at his cell-phone for a moment, feeling out of breath and dazed. Sick to his stomach. Entirely too aware of what had happened. For a while he fully expected to wake up from the nightmare. He never did.

Instead he came to a steel hard decision.

Five minutes later he stood outside the building and lifted his head at the sound of a approaching vehicle. His steps were far heavier and more hesitant than they should've been. He fought not to sigh with relief when he was finally able to slump down.

Derek arched an eyebrow at him. "Damn, pretty boy. What kept you up last night?"

For a moment Spencer felt intensely tempted to answer honestly. Instead he swallowed thickly and buckled his seatbelt. "Just… thoughts." Well, it was partially honest, anyway.

"Anything in particular?"

Spencer looked out the window, stared at the cars and buildings flashing by. "Emily", he murmured softly. "I just… I wish that I told her I understood why she did what she did, before she left."

Derek kept his silence for a moment. Seemed to consider his next words carefully. "I'm sure that she knew." The man remained deep in thought while taking a turn to the right. "You know, maybe I'll take you along to see her the next time. She misses you."

The thought of seeing her definitely sounded pleasant, especially now that he had so much he wanted to talk about with her. Spencer took a deep breath, trying to will down the weight sitting on his chest. If Derek knew about his plans… "Thanks." _For everything_. He then frowned, only just realizing something. "Where are we going?" Because the route they'd taken wasn't that to the police station.

"Garcia called while I was on my way to pick you up", Derek revealed with a suspiciously pleased look on his face. "A nurse from some small clinic called her. She'd been going through the security tapes and spotted a client who suited our profile."

Spencer's heart jumped all the way to his throat and it was a miracle that it didn't show on his face. "Oh", was all he had breath for. Because suddenly he realized just how little time he had in his hands.

Once they left the vehicle he was relieved that Derek didn't notice his messenger bag, deliberately abandoned to the backseat.

* * *

As soon as Derek marched into the clinic, with Spencer firmly beside him, a latino woman of his age with neatly tied dark hair and large, dark eyes made her way to them. "I'm Paula Fernandez, the head nurse of this place. I'm glad that you came so quickly."

Derek nodded. Despite the circumstances he didn't forget to flash her one of his armor stripping smiles. "We understood that you had something to show us."

Paula nodded. By then they'd already reached what turned out to be an office with a computer that showed the footage from five security cameras. "One of my nurses told me about this man when I informed the staff what you were looking for. She told me that the date, time and injuries match." She worked on the computer for a while, seeking the correct footage. Eventually a triumphant flash appeared to her eyes. "There!"

Derek leaned forward without even noticing it, his eyes narrowing like those of a bloodhound that just caught a scent. He even licked his lips, as though tasting the oncoming capture. A surprisingly pleasant chill went through him.

At first there was nothing out of the ordinary. Several members of staff walking by, along with quite a bit of patients. A couple of drunk men, a clearly very high young woman under the careful observation of a police officer. Then his eyes locked on a certain figure.

There, sitting perfectly calmly with a subtle yet clearly deliberate distance to everyone else, was a man who seemed glaringly out of place. Tall and very athletic, with a posture that spoke of excellent manners and sophistication. Most likely a few years older than Spencer. Dressed in a long, clearly expensive black coat, a pair of black shoes that matched the style perfectly and a most likely silky burgundy shirt. No tie, because that would've been too much. Obviously displeased yet unwilling to show his rapidly draining temper the man ran a hand through shortcut, perfectly unruly light brown hair. A mesmerizing pair of blue eyes that held a touch of green kept a curious yet absentminded eye on the police officer.

A man like that was bound to stand out wherever he went. But somehow he also didn't seem like anything suspicious. If one didn't look at the injuries.

Some bruises tainting the sculpture like, ivory face… A most likely broken finger… And that was only the damage Derek was able to see.

"What was his name?" Derek demanded instantly.

"Charles Milverton. The most clever fake one we've had in a while, we even bought it. The guy's read his Conan Doyle novels." (1) The nurse gave them an apologetic look. "We would've demanded further information but based on his story there seemed to be no need to alert the authorities. And we're trying to keep this a 'easy to access' place for everyone so we're not too uptight with names."

Derek gritted his teeth. It took his all not to snarl exactly what he thought about the working methods of this particular clinic. "Do you have any idea where we could find him?"

The nurse scoffed. "I don't even have his real name. How do you imagine I'd know where he is?" But then she took a call card from the pocket of her work coat and gave it to him. "He did leave this, though."

Derek nodded sharply. He pocketed the card instantly but something told him not to throw it away. "What are the chances of this number working?"

Paula shrugged, appearing as frustrated as he felt. "About the same as a snowball's in hell", she admitted honestly. Just then her pager came to life. "You know where to find me if you have any further questions. Now, if you'll excuse me…" With that she walked away.

Derek groaned, glaring at her retreating back. Of course she'd done nothing to deserve his anger but he took what he had when there wasn't a proper target. "Unbelievable…!" he growled, then proceeded to stare daggers at the computer screen. "They had him, right here!"

"Yeah, I know."

It wasn't until then Derek realized that Spencer hadn't uttered another word beyond those since they entered. He glanced towards his friend with a frown of justified worry. The man seemed pale and painfully tense. "You okay, kid?"

Spencer nodded but didn't seem exactly certain. "Yeah. I… may be coming down with something." The younger man took a breath. "You go back to the station. I'll catch some fresh air and follow."

Derek wanted to argue but he already knew that it was a lost cause. Besides there was a case to focus on and they finally had something concrete. So he walked away, his head buzzing with thoughts and questions. Never once looking back.

How was he supposed to know that it was the one time he should've looked back?

* * *

There were days when Aaron honestly hated his post as the unit chief. That dawning, rainy day was definitely one of them. He sighed deeply while approaching the police station's conference room where the rest of the team was supposed to be waiting.

Spencer wasn't a official suspect yet but the younger agent would definitely be questioned. Like some criminal, a murderer. And the worst part was that after the pieces of evidence he'd seen Aaron didn't know what to believe in anymore.

It was like some twisted nightmare, all of it.

Aaron was so deep in thought that he shivered when his cell-phone began to ring. He blinked twice at the sight of 'Reid' on the screen. "Reid?" His frown deepened when he stepped into the room that'd been given to his team and realized that their youngest was nowhere in sight. "Where are you? We…"

"_I… I didn't kill those people, Hotch. You need to believe me_." There was a incomprehensible sound. "_I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of but… I didn't kill those men. I swear_."

Aaron's breath caught for a second while something that felt a lot like guilt struck a knife through him. So yes, he had his doubts. But now, listening to Spencer's voice… "I believe you", he promised honestly. "And so do the others. But you need to come here. Chief Rhyes has questions for you and if you run away…"

"_I don't have the time for those questions_." Spencer's voice was strained, full of nearly palpable pain. "_Hotch… I can't come back now. Not before I've stopped him_."

Aaron felt cold all over. Dread that he couldn't quite understand yet seeped through, filling him. "What are you talking about?"

"_I left Morgan something this morning. It's everything I can reveal to you about him. You all need to go through it carefully so you'll be prepared for him. But never, ever come after him. Do you hear me? Stay away from him_."

"Who is _he_?"

"_The most dangerous man we've ever come across_." Spencer took a deep, slightly shuddering breath. "_Hotch… I'm so sorry that I brought you all into this. You were never supposed to get involved_."

Hotch swallowed, his chest tightening to a painful extend. There were people – his teammembers – around him, asking what was going on. He didn't even notice them. "Whoever he is you won't be able to stop him alone." _He'll kill you!_ "Reid, let us help you!"

"_The only way you can help me is to stay away and stay safe_." Was that a car passing by? "_This is my fight, not yours_."

Aaron gritted his teeth. A wave of helpless rage was almost enough to take his breath away. "This team is a family. Your fight is ours."

"_Not this one_." The was a breath long pause. "_You… You've been the best family I could've ever asked for. Make sure that the others know that. Just in case_."

Following some sixth sense Aaron turned his head and looked through the window. His eyes strayed for a while before they locked on a very familiar figure standing in the rain only a parking lot and a street away. There was a great deal of pain on Spencer's face. "_Hotch, I'm sorry. But please, try to understand one more time_."

Aaron's eyes widened a fraction. And although he knew that it was pointless he took a step forward. "REID…!"

But the phone call was already over. And at that very moment a buss rushed by. By the time it disappeared Spencer had vanished as well. Like the young genius was never there.

* * *

Half an hour later Spencer was sitting in the middle of a airport, adrenaline rushing madly through his veins and his eyes darting around suspiciously. His wariness was understandable enough, considering that he knew full well that he was being watched. In the end his gaze focused on the massive clock on the opposite side of the massive space.

Only two more minutes and the trap would snap closed.

A chill crossed him when the cell-phone he received only ten minutes earlier began to ring. He picked up quickly. "I had a feeling that you might get this number."

"_Oh, don't insult me. You'd be surprised if you knew with whom I talk to on daily basis_." The monster on the other end kept a pause. "_But now, what is this? Running away doesn't seem like your style. Or well, at least it didn't before our little spat_."

Spencer's left eyebrow twitched dangerously and he had to grit his teeth to maintain his composure. "I'm not running away", he pointed out. "You've already killed almost everyone from my former team. I'm planning on giving you some challenge."

"_Playing hard to get, are we? Mmm, tempting._" The other hummed. "_You seem awfully tense. Have I done something to upset you?_"

Spencer bit the inner side of his mouth. "I know that with me it's personal. But it wasn't back then, not with them." He swallowed. There was a horrible taste in his mouth. "Why did you do it?" he demanded in a voice he couldn't recognize. "Why are you doing all of this?"

The caller groaned. "_You profilers… Why do you people always need a reason why those like me do the things we do? Does it help you sleep better at night? Give you a sense of security, like there's some rationality in your silly little world?_" The other man chuckled. "_Well, alright. I'll give you a reason, if it's what you really want. But you may not like it._"

Spencer's eyes shifted towards the massive clock. Only ten more seconds. "I'm all ears."

"_I do what I do because I enjoy it. Immensely. And because let's face it, love. I'm very, very good at it_."

Spencer's eyes flashed while a very familiar chill went down his spine. Instantly his gaze fell downwards and he shivered against his will. There was a red spot on his chest, directly above where his heart was hammering.

"_See? You shouldn't have asked. I told you that you might not like the answer_."

Spencer jumped down at the last possible second, ducking away less than a breath before a bullet whistled past him. He could actually feel the its burn as he hit the floor and the bullet hit metal with a ominous jingle. To anyone else the sound was like that of a fallen coin. He remained absolutely still for a couple of seconds, focusing hard on breathing.

Somehow his hold on the cell-phone remained. There was a chuckle. "_Excellent. I'm glad that you haven't let yourself get rusty. Now get up. You have company_."

Spencer took cover with caution, not wanting to catch any more attention than was acutely necessary. He blended in and took cover, then scanned the environment to see if there was more than just one active threat. His stomach knotted at what he found.

Five police officers in civil clothes were closing in on him. They did their best to blend in to the crowd but it was hard to miss their gun holsters. In precisely four seconds it'd be too late to escape without having to resort into violence.

Spencer swallowed hard to avoid screaming out curses.

"_Spencer_", Leah hissed into his earpiece. Her voice was atypically tight which, considering the situation, was quite understandable. "_I'm almost there. But I need you to buy me more time. Six seconds_."

The voice on the phone chuckled. "_What's this? It looks like little Spencer has a dilemma. Now which one is more important? A plan to catch me that's doomed to fail? Or the safety of those police officers and that lovely lady who seems to imagine that she's closing in on me? Because if you stay and refuse to hurt them then I will_." There was a brief pause. "_Tick tock. This is starting to get boring. And you don't like me when I'm bored, remember?_"

Spencer closed his eyes for a second and exhaled a shuddering breath. Then whispered to the earpiece. "I'm sorry." Enough innocent lives had been lost.

"_What the hell are you doing?_" Leah snarled. "_We can't let him get away like this!_"

Spencer's eyes flashed while he began to move, walking slowly yet determinedly away from the officers. They didn't have enough to arrest him. There was no reason to run and cause a scene. "I'm not", he swore. His gaze shifted, finally giving away that he knew exactly where his opponent was hiding. "Are you still listening, or did I bore you already? Because I have a proposition of my own."

"_Bargaining, are we?_" The criminal chuckled. "_Mine, you've certainly grown up. Pray tell_."

Spencer did his best to keep his expression hard as stone although everything inside him was boiling and thundering. "That one thing you find interesting enough… Follow me and leave everyone else alone, and I'll give you exactly what you want."

"_SPENCER!_" Leah was screaming objections but he'd already taken off his ear piece. He'd brought enough death and danger on everyone. This final round he'd face alone.

"_I must admit that you impressed me_", the murderer confessed. The man sounded genuinely proud. "_You must be really furious with me to be this vicious_."

"Wait until you see me mad", Spencer adviced, then hung up.

Moments later Specner offered a kindly smiling member of security personel one of his fifteen forged passports. He returned her gesture slightly more tightly, then advanced towards the awaiting airplane. Fully aware that he was running away completely on his own and with the most dangerous monster he'd ever encountered hot on his tails.

* * *

Of course Spencer couldn't possibly know that an hour after he entered the plane the doors of the police station opened. Instantly the arrival was under a lot of suspicious attention. It was the man who once introduced himself as Charles Milverton.

"I, ah… understood that you're looking for me. So… Here I am."

* * *

TBC

* * *

1) A villain from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 'Sherlock Holmes' novels. (The full name's Charles Augustus Milverton.)

* * *

A/N: Ugh… Now THIS… probably isn't going to end well. (shudders) So Reid's on his own. And our still unnamed villain, or something like that, seems to have made himself known.

Soooo… Did that meet your expectations? Or was it a total flop? Please, do let me know! Hearing from you always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Until next time, folks! 'Hope you'll stop by again then.

Take care!

* * *

**Sniper**: I'm so, so excited to hear that you enjoyed the chapter so much! Quite a bit of suspense, no? (grins)

We'll see just who delivered those 'clues' Hotch was introduced to. Let's just hope that those won't make too big of a mess of things… And that person talking to Reid definitely didn't sound like good news.

And yup, we've even got a mystery ring in our hands!

MERCI BEAUCOUP for you asbolutely amazing review! Gosh, I truly hope that what's to come manages to keep you as excited.


	4. One Tangled Net

A/N: I'm so sorry that you had to wait an extra day! Last week was INSANE and depiste my best attempts I wasn't able to update on Saturday. (winces) Next week it should be back to Sunday updates.

Firstly, though…! THANK YOU, so very much, for all your reviews, listings and supports! My gosh, how happy I am to see that this story's gained many friends. 'Makes the joy of typing this that much sweeter! (HUGS)

Awkay, without any further stalling… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

One Tangled Net

* * *

/ _The physical part of the CIA-training was far from easy on Spencer but he was furiously stubborn and intensely motivated. Bruises, cuts, even injuries… He didn't let any of them stop him._

_He was determined to prove these people that he wasn't just a scared little kid who had no other assets but his incredible memory._

_On that particular Tuesday Spencer delivered intense kicks and punches at a defenseless, innocent punching bag. Each swing it took, every single wail of metal, pushed a surge of satisfaction through him. He'd always gotten lost into the world of books. How was he supposed to know just how intoxicating and addictive this, the real life and all this adrenaline, could be?_

_In the end he kicked hard enough to cause a tear. He panted, staring how the white substance kept leaking out. His whole body was on overdrive. That's why he was alerted about the presence long before the clapping began._

_"Excellent", Ian Hollard praised. There was genuine pride in the unit chief's eyes. "This confirms what I've been thinking about for a while, now. You're finally ready for your first big case."_

_Spencer blinked twice, his heart forgetting a beat or two. Of course he'd already worked on countless of smaller cases. Interrogations, even some captures… But now he'd be accepted to something far more extensive. "What kind of a case?" He couldn't hide his enthusiasm._

_Ian certainly didn't appear worried or taken aback by his eagerness. "We're about to go after a criminal called the Spider. He's the most dangerous man our team has faced thus far." The man frowned. "What I wanted to talk to you about alone is how we're planning on approaching him."_

_A shiver went through Spencer. He swallowed. "Why?" was all he managed._

_Ian's face grew a lot more solemn. For the first time ever he saw the man hesitate, only for a beat but still. "I have a strong feeling that you're not going to like it."_ /

* * *

Derek had always been a man of action. And so, as soon as the first shock over Spencer's unexpected and forced departure began to settle, he started the work of bringing an end to the whole nightmare. It felt wrong to go through Spencer's trademark bag but under the circumstances he had very little choice. Besides, didn't the genius tell them that he wanted them to be prepared?

What he and Alex Blake, who was going through the bag's contents with him, found was a file. Not one of the FBI's though. They exchanged a look.

"CIA?" Alex sputtered out loud, appearing nothing short of baffled.

There was also a note. Hastily written in Spencer's familiar handwriting. It seemed that the genius had been in a tremendous amount of hurry.

'_Officially this case doesn't exist so you won't be able to use this file as evidence. But I need you to know what you're up against. I wish that you'd never found out about this side of me and I'm sorry that I brought you into this_.'

Derek countered Alex's incredulous look with a matching one. Then, promptly, decided that they couldn't waste a second. This was Spencer's safety and quite possibly their own in question.

As soon as they opened the file they found a picture, definitely of the same man who'd been on the clinic's security footage. Several pictures of him, in fact. None of them overly suspicious but something about the man…

There was also a long list of names attached. Charles Milverton was one of them. Joseph Bell had been written in red.

'_He has several aliases and it's still uncertain which one, if any, is his real name. Joseph Bell is the one he seems to prefer. It's the one he uses during business meetings and in official occasions_.'

Alex's eyebrow bounced up. She seemed to shiver a little. "Business meetings?"

Well, they didn't have to wait for the answer too long. As they went on they found quite a number of documents that at least attempted to connect the monster to a massive range of crimes. A string of armed robberies, followed by dealing firearms and drugs. And then there was an endless list of contract killings.

'_He's developed a successful business. He has his hands on numerous crimes but he can't be connected to any of them clearly enough for him to be convicted. He's incredibly resourceful, intelligent, cautious and brutal. And he's working with a lot of influential, dangerous people. A few years ago I was working on an operation that was supposed to stop him. We imagined that we succeeded but it looks like we were careless. As for me… I made the mistake of letting it get too personal. The price he made me pay for that was unacceptable. Those deaths we've been investigating… Those murdered men are my former CIA-teammates. He killed them. And he's already threatened the safety of you, Henry and my mom. I believe every word after seeing what he's capable of._'

They went through a few more of the pictures. Until they came across certain ones. Derek felt sick to his stomach and actually recoiled a step. Alex slapped a hand to her lips, falling pale. "Oh my god…!"

* * *

Chief Rhyes' eyes were sharp and, admittedly, full of excitement while he stared at the trembling, visibly terrified man before him. Terrified, and very, very battered. Clearly someone who'd gone to hell and back.

He placed a tape recorder to the table and inhaled hard to keep his voice even. This case was finally starting to make sense and the mighty FBI turned out to be nothing but a hindrance. "You're safe now. We're going to make sure that you're protected", he promised. "Right now… I need you to take a deep breath and tell me everything you know about Dr. Spencer Reid."

"That… wasn't the name that I knew him by. But, well, Charles Milverton isn't mine, either." The man's eyes seemed to gaze somewhere very far away, seeing something that wasn't from the real world. "I… My real name is Dr. Joseph Bell. Although I suppose that I'm no doctor anymore." The witness shook his head, appearing even more tense than before. The man licked his lips "I'm sorry. I've been living under false names for so long that it feels strange to use the real one."

Chief Rhyes frowned. "Why have you been using those fake identities?"

Joseph looked at him, tears filling his eyes. The man was unbelievably pale, visibly frail. "Because… Because I fear for my life." The witness wiped his eyes. "Years… Years ago, when I was on verge of graduating properly, I worked in a psychiatric institution. That was my line of speciality and I'd already been promised a permanent position."

Chief Rhyes nodded sharply, starting to grow impatient.

"One day I was handed the case of a patient who suffered from visual and auditory hallucinations, along with blinding headaches. His mother had been diagnosed with schizophrenia so I didn't have to look for a diagnosis from afar." Joseph looked away, the memories clearly hurting him. "His condition began to detoriorate rapidly but I refused to give up on him, even when my colleagues expressed concern over how attached I was growing. He… grew very fond of me, to a point where I was the only person he talked to. On his better days, anyway. There were times when the symptoms rendered him almost catatonic." The man wiped his eyes. "Until, eventually, even I became his enemy. He started accusing me of horrible things, said that I was a… target. That was when he escaped."

Chief Rhyes felt something very cold and uncomfortable go through him while dread swell. Still he had to hear it. "What did he do?"

By then the tears were running freely. Joseph was shaking so hard that the man barely remained on his chair. "My… My wife… She worked as a nurse, for the same hospital, and… He found our address, somehow." The man buried his face into his hands, surrendering into loud, heart wrenching sobs. "When I… When I came home from work… He'd killed her, brutally. Her and our five months old baby. And he… He was there, waiting for me. Almost killed me, too." The man's following words were barely audible. "I… Sometimes I wish he did."

* * *

From behind the glass Aaron stared at the events unfolding with uncharacteristically wide eyes that somehow failed to conceal the emotional turmoil swelling inside. He could only stare, feeling sick to his stomach. His head was spinning.

Aaron had already heard the man telling a story that he was a psychiatrist. That Spencer was his former patient. And that Spencer, of all people, was the one who attacked him, tried to kill him. It couldn't be real, could it?

Aaron shivered when steps approached and Penelope's small, shaking voice spoke all of a sudden. "I… I did some digging, and… It all checks." Her hand trembled when she moved a strayed strand of hair away from her eyes. "Bell's identity, the hospital…" Her eyes were full of confusion and sheer terror. "Hotch, what's going on?"

Aaron squeezed his mouth to a thin, tight line and went back to staring at the man who's name was, apparently, Joseph. Because for once in his life he didn't have the answer. And he hated it.

* * *

/ _When the paramedics received a call that there'd been an attack with two fatalities and two badly wounded they knew to expect something horrible. But nothing could've prepared them for the reality. What they encountered would haunt their nightmares for the rest of their lives._

_The first thing they found was a woman who'd been stabbed twice before the killer had, apparently, had enough and slashed her throat. She'd been trying to crawl towards something and, although they weren't sure if they wanted to know, the paramedics headed to that direction, following ominious traces of blood. The sight that unfolded froze them to the spot._

_There, in a crib, was a baby that couldn't be even six months old. Dead. And two badly bloodied, battered men lay on the floor. One of them obviously having attempted to reach the crib and the other slumped to the middle of the floor._

_The men seemed to be alive, just barely, and that was what pushed the paramedics into motion. So they did what they'd been trained for, fought furiously to save the two lives still left. Trying not to wonder what happened in the house before their arrival._ /

* * *

Chief Rhyes found it hard to breathe all of a sudden. The world around him was spinning rapidly and his blood was boiling. The mixture of disbelief, disgust and glee was rather terrifying, if he was honest with himself.

So a FBI agent was turning out to be a murderer that would've belonged to psychiatric care? This was almost too good to be true. This would be his ticket to fame and glory.

But first, of course, he needed to hear the full story. So he leaned forward, trying to keep his voice from quivering and giving him away. "They were able to save you."

Joseph nodded sullenly. "Barely. According to them it was a miracle." The man took a deep, shuddering breath. Finally appearing at least relatively composed. "I… was placed into into protective custody. They gave me a new identity, a new life. The first years… They were horrible. I kept having nightmares, and…" Joseph chuckled a bit bitterly and shook his head. "I know that it's ridiculous, but… Every single day and night I feared that he'd come after me again. Until… Until I forgot to be afraid anymore. And now…"

Chief Rhyes gritted his teeth, full of determination. The rush going through his veins… He loved it, immensely. "We're going to catch him. Alright? He won't be able to run away forever. And until then we'll protect you. We'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I promise."

Joseph looked at him. But instead of relief there was a intense turmoil in the man's eyes. "Don't make promises that you can't keep."

* * *

In another room Derek and Alex couldn't stop staring at the pictures before their eyes. Horror, nausea and sheer disbelief filled them. Even after everything they'd seen…

The pictures were crime scenes photos of a woman and a small baby.

'_That woman is Anya Bell and the child is her baby Diane. This is what e's capable of doing to his dearest. To those he imagines he loves_.'

"Reid was right", Derek muttered. His eyes were still glued on the pictures. "This guy… He's a monster."

Alex nodded. She shook her head, still appearing a little nauseated. "And he's going to face this monster alone."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Not if that's up to me", he declared harshly. Blatantly ignoring the note Spencer had attached to the file.

'_Don't come looking for me. And don't come anywhere near him. Don't trust anyone. You can't even imagine how wide his web is_.'

"We need to find him before it's too late", Alex stated. She felt unnaturally cold. "Both of them."

* * *

Aaron was there waiting for chief Rhyes when the man finally emerged from the interrogation room. The older man didn't seem impressed. "So you were here listening to the entire thing." The was a indignant shrug. "Well, suit yourself. I can't imagine that it would've been a very pleasant experience."

Aaron's eyes narrowed. "He's trying to destroy the reputation of an excellent FBI-agent. You can't…!"

Chief Rhyes' eyes carried a loudly speaking message when they met his. "You've seen the evidence. All of it. That so called agent of yours… He's been lying to a group of profilers for years. And when my men went to seek him out, to find him from an airport, he ran away. I should be able to get an official arrest warrant in a heartbeat." The man turned and began to walk away. "Spencer Reid is a cold blooded killer and I'm going to catch him. As for your team… You have no business working on this case anymore.

* * *

Derek was already riled up and ready to tear something apart when he left the room he'd occupied with Alex to find Aaron. He didn't run into the unit chief. Instead he ended up face to face with the monster from the photographs.

For a couple of seconds Derek could only stare while two police officers escorted Joseph Bell towards the elevator. But the man wasn't cuffed. In fact the three of them seemed to be getting along incredibly well.

_The hell…?!_

"Hey!" he shouted, pointed at Joseph. "What the hell are you doing? That guy is our strongest suspect…"

One of the officers gave him a loudly speaking look. "That's not your judgement to make. We have direct orders to deliver Mr. Bell directly into protective custody."

Derek's heart jumped. If they'd do that… He was about to move forward until he was interrupted. "I wouldn't do that if I were you", chief Rhyes' voice sounded from behind him all of a sudden. There was a entirely too smug look on the man's face. "He's a valuable witness, as it turned out. And if you as much as look at him the wrong way I'll have you arrested. As for your team… You can as well pack up and head home. Because you have no business working on this case anymore." With that as his verdict the chief followed the trio to the elevator.

While the doors closed Joseph had the decency to give Derek a small yet extremely cheeky grin. The man even winked. And all Derek could do was watch.

He couldn't remember the last time he would've felt as completely helpless as he did when the elevator's doors slid closed between them.

Derek was so preoccupied that he was startled when he realized that all of a sudden Aaron, David, JJ and Alex were standing beside him. They had grim looks on their faces. That, and a steel hard determination.

JJ swallowed. There was a flame of fury in her confused eyes. "So… Now what?"

"Now… Now we fight", Derek answered immediately, growling the words through his teeth. "We're going to find Reid before it's too late. So what if they forced us out of the case? We can't let him end up arrested or worse."

None of the others argued.

* * *

_Three Days Later_

* * *

Sitting behind the wheel of an ancient Toyota Wynnie Stiles ran a hand through her extremely shortcut, bright red dyed hair, a tense expression on her face that carried a massive amount of makeup. Her sapphire blue eyes burned with irritation.

She'd certainly made a lot of mistakes in her life but…!

"I imagined that my depth was already taken care of", she growled as soon as the passenger side's door opened. Looking to side she arched an eyebrow, the original thought lost. "Christ…! What happened to you?"

Spencer Reid definitely looked like he'd gone to hell and back. He had bruises and cuts everywhere she could see and a layer of blood caked his clothes. She had a nasty feeling that not all of it was his own. "You owe me this one more", he growled. His speech didn't seem to come out quite right. "So drive."

Wynnie sighed, focusing on driving and wondering just what the hell she'd gotten herself into. They continued on in a silence for a while until she couldn't contain her curiosity anymore. "Do I want to know?"

"He's alive", was all Spencer spat out.

Yet it was all she needed. All color drained from her face while the words sunk in. "Jesus…!" She swallowed, trying to force her heart into slowing down. "What… are you going to do?" This had to be just some sort of a nightmare, right?

Apparently not. "I have a plan", Spencer assured her. There was something almost terrifying in his eyes. "But first… I'll need a second favor."

Wynnie groaned. She definitely didn't like the sound of that. "And what might it be? Hiding a body?"

"No." It was unclear if he figured out that she was joking or not. Not that it mattered. "I want you to cut off something from me."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: And the tale keeps getting more and more twisted… Just who is this Joseph Bell? What in the world happened to the baby and its mother? And what's our beloved genius planning?

Soooo… Any good, at all, or deleting worthy? Worth the extra day of wait? PLEASE, do let me know!

I've gotta go now. Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll be there.

Take care!

* * *

**Sniper**: It still makes me INCREDIBLY happy to hear that you're enjoying the ride so much. (smiles like sunshine)

I truly hope that what's to come turns out worthy of your expectations.

Thank you, so, so much, for your review!  
-

* * *

**Patricia**: In that case, WELCOME ABOARD! (grins) I'm thrilled to hear that you've enjoyed the journey thus far so much. I really hope that what's to come won't disappoint, either.

Massive thank yous for the review!


	5. Something of Yours, Something of Mine

A/N: Phew! For a moment I worried that I wouldn't manage a Sunday update but here I am. Yay?

First, of course… Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all your reviews and love for this story! It's beyond me how popular this has become. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting long enough… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Something of Yours, Something of Mine

* * *

/ _Of course Spencer had seen a lot of pictures of his new target. But he didn't quite know what to expect until the man took the opposite side of the small, heavily bolted white table. He was greeted by a stunningly kind smile. But those eyes…_

_"Good morning, William. My name is Dr. Bell", the doctor greeted him. "I've heard that there's quite a bit going on inside your head. But we're going to start sorting that all out together."_

_William. It was bitter irony, really, that out of all possible fake names Ian Hollard had chosen that one for him. Or perhaps it was his unit chief's way of trying to tell him something. In any case this whole thing was starting to feel like a horrible mistake. A nightmare._

_Well, that feeling set in quite nicely the moment he heard that he'd have to play the role of a psychiatric patient._

_Spencer's eyes followed Dr. Bell while the man settled to a chair and began to go through the file that had his fake name on top of it. He managed to force a tremor into his hand, determined to act his role. "I don't belong here." Honest enough. And wasn't that what they all said?_

_Dr. Bell's smile changed ever so slightly. Those eyes looked into his, seeming to notice a lot more than they should've. "Nobody does", the man agreed in a smooth, silky tone. "But as it turned out people are… worried. You did attack a person. So I'm afraid that a visit to this fine establishment is mandatory." The doctor tilted his head, revealed a flash of perfect white teeth. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to make this as pleasant for you as possible."_

_Spencer fixed a hard look at the therapist. He waited for a couple of seconds before trying again the small and high pitched, timid voice he'd trained in beforehand. "Is that what you say to us all?" he inquired._

_Dr. Bell nodded. All of a sudden the threat in the man's eyes multiplied. "Well, of course. And I mean it." With that the doctor pushed himself up. "Do try to make the most out of your stay here, William. And welcome to Misty Meadows."_

_Few things in Spencer's entire life had felt as threatening as the large hand that squeezed his shoulder as Dr. Bell passed by._ /

* * *

Derek felt incredibly uncomfortable while he stood in the lobby of Misty Meadows, trying to take in his surroundings. The hospital seemed about as pleasant as any psychiatric hospital could. Calm colors, a carefully chosen collection of furniture. Nothing that would've over-stimulated already tormented minds. And a lot of locked doors.

Less than five minutes in and Derek was already feeling claustrophobic.

"Agent Morgan?" He turned his head to see a woman of his age with long, neatly tied black hair and pair of sharp chocolate colored eyes. She was smiling but her stiff, professional posture ate away most of the affect. "I'm Dr. Amanda Freeman, the head of this facility. I believe that we spoke over the phone."

Derek nodded. For some reason his chest tightened. "Yes." He cleared his throat, wondering how he should set his words. "My team… is trying to solve a case and a doctor who used to work here is involved. Dr. Joseph Bell."

Dr. Freeman's smile faded away entirely. Her eyes were nothing short of frosty. "Unlike you seem to imagine I've been watching the news and reading newspapers over the past four months. I know exactly how your team is involved."

Four months… That piece of information struck Derek, hard and bitterly. Had it really been that long since Spencer ran away from them? Since the monster they'd really been after was escorted away into protective custody from directly underneath their noses?

"Now, agent Morgan… Listen to me very closely." Dr. Freeman was glaring at him. "I do understand that you want to believe the best of your friend. But Dr. Bell is one of the greatest doctors I've ever come across. A pure genius and a genuinely good person. And I'm not going to let you taint his name just to save the skin of one of your own, especially after everything Dr. Bell's gone through." She gritted her teeth, hard. "I can lead you to his studies, so you'll see what Dr. Bell really is like. But I refuse to go any further than that. As far as I've understood your team isn't even working on this case anymore."

* * *

Fernando Cruz had been a criminal for as long as he could remember. He felt no remorse over the fact, aside the sting over knowing that his mother would've wanted him to lead a very different life. And he was very, very good at his job.

He smirked while looking down at his current target of interest. The other, slightly shorter man was panting heavily. Which, after Fernando's handling and the mess before that, wasn't a surprise. The wet bush of black hair was almost enough to hide the blood.

"I just saved you from drowning", Fernando pointed out coolly. The foolish man before him had been running away from the police and jumped off a boat. By the time Fernando's men found the poor devil he'd been nearly dead. "You could at least say 'thank you'."

A man who could barely be recognized as Spencer Reid lifted his chin valiantly. There was a fire of defiance in those storming eyes. "Thank you", the man spat out, hissing the words through blood stained, chapped lips.

Fernando rewarded the words with a swift, merciless kick at the man's ribs. "I'm having a bad day. Don't tempt me." He explored his captive with his gaze, taking in a map of scars, bruises and wounds. It was a miserable sight, really. Finally his focus locked on a hastily bandaged wound on the man's arm that didn't look like any of the other injuries. He wondered, with a degree of curiosity, if it was infected. "Now what's that?"

* * *

/ _"Why the hell do you want me to peel off your micro chip?"_

_"Just… Trust me. I have my reasons."_ /

* * *

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling more than a little nauseous and his head pounding mercilessly. A concussion combined with lack of rest and proper nutrition were giving him a hard time, it seemed. He refused to let it show from his face, though, even when memories that he didn't have the time for at the moment surfaced. He kept his quiet.

Fernando shrugged. He was getting quite bored with his non-verbal companion. "Alright, then. So you've chosen to give me silent treatment." He turned towards the collection of knives he had nearby. "In that case I'll have to entartain myself with other methods. Boss told me to keep you alive but never said anything about keeping you in one piece."

While examining his collection he noticed something that made his blood turn cold. He froze, to a point in which he didn't notice shadows moving behind him. One of his knives was missing.

The realization came precisely four seconds before Fernando fell to the floor, dead.

* * *

It was quite long from the last time being called to meet section chief Mateo Cruz had meant good news to Aaron. The good news stopped when Spencer was made a monster in the eyes of the public and the massive media storm began to blow. The credibility of the entire bureau had been questioned. It was a small miracle that they'd been allowed to keep their jobs. They were under a microscope, though, which meant that there was absolutely no room for error. And that made trying to clear Spencer's reputation subtly and under the radar almost impossible.

The look on Mateo's face was a warning long before the man actually spoke. "I just received a very interesting phone call from a psychiatric hospital. Apparently agent Morgan has been using his sabbatical in a rather… questionable way." It didn't need to be elaborated. Aaron knew exactly what Derek had been doing in Misty Meadows.

Aaron gritted his teeth. "With all due respect… We're not trying to cause any further problems. We're only trying to bring some sense into all of this."

Mateo didn't appear impressed or overly sympathetic. Aaron couldn't blame the man, really. He couldn't even imagine the amount of higher ups and reporters that must've been harassing the section chief. Questioning how a mentally unstable murderer had managed to lure his way into the FBI. How a group of trained profilers had failed to see something so glaringly obvious. "Your team will receive another official warning. One more and I have no other choice but to make heads roll. I'm sorry, but my hands are tied." The man's eyes hardened. "Agent Morgan's stunt, however, wasn't the only reason I invited you to meet me."

From the beginning Aaron knew that he wasn't going to like the answer. But he didn't have the luxury of not asking. "What happened?"

Mateo's eyes didn't soothe his thundering heart at all. The words that fell helped even less. "Earlier this morning… The safehouse where Joseph Bell was kept ended up being attacked. The two men who were supposed to guard him ended up dead. Joseph is missing but the amount of blood and destruction left behind suggests that the local police won't find him alive."

Aaron felt like someone had stabbed him all over again. He swallowed hard but the bitter taste in his mouth remained. In the end he did the only thing he could at the moment. He buried his face into his hands and groaned, fighting hard not to spit out all the curses sitting on his tongue.

"Yeah, I know." But oh, Mateo wasn't finished yet. "They were also able to find Reid's fingerprints from the safehouse."

Aaron stared at the man with open disbelief. Rage waking inside him. "Reid wouldn't leave…!"

"I tried to tell them. But do you really think that they'd listen to anything I say?" Mateo emitted a shuddering sigh. "And Aaron… I'm really sorry, but… I had no other choice but to let them send another FBI-team after him." The section chief's eyes were full of frustration and grief. "They have orders to bring him back, one way or the other."

* * *

Spencer was running for his dear life, despite the fact that his head and battered legs were far from ready for such. The Spider's network was fast and efficient. Almost as soon as Fernando was dead the police caught his trails.

Or no, not just the police. Spencer felt his stomach turn with sorrow the moment he saw the entirely too familiar letters 'FBI'. So they were hoping that catching him would clean up the stain his supposed betrayal had caused on the bureau. Guilt, anger and frustration blended into one.

He never meant to…

"Agent Reid." Turning his head he saw a painfully young man in the FBI's customary gear. Blue eyes full of sheer terror, sweat plastering pale brown hair to his forehead. Clearly a agent in training. The hands holding a gun were shaking almost as badly as the youth's voice. "You… You need medical attention. Let me help you."

Spencer had to admit that after four long months on the run he was very tempted to accept that offer. To be able to stop running, hiding and fighting… It felt like a dream come true. But the Spider was still out there. His lonely war wasn't over yet.

The rookie agent didn't look like a fast shot. And there was a metal bar just within Spencer's reach. Of course he didn't want to hurt someone innocent but…

"I'm sorry", he breathed out. "But… I can't stop yet."

His prediction had been a correct one. As he moved the younger man's eyes widened but the gun wasn't fired. Nor was there any sound aside the sighs of the air around them and a small, choked gasp.

Guilt coursed through Spencer while he stared at the other's unmoving form. All his instincts told him to wait around until he could be sure that there'd be help, to ensure that the poor man wouldn't be left out cold and alone. But he, of course, couldn't afford himself that. And so, forcing himself to not look back, he kept going. In some way it was fortunate that he was in too much physical discomfort to fully register the ache swelling in his chest.

The journey there felt endless. But in the end Spencer stumbled into a tiny apartment that he knew to be safe. It reeked of something he preferred not trying to guess and the amount of dust inside made him want to cough but he wouldn't be able to go any further so it'd have to do.

With some difficulty he found a small, very uncomfortable bed that made far more noise than he would've liked. Nonetheless he slumped on it gratefully, trying to catch his breath. He had a head injury and several wounds that needed treatment. But there was no force in the universe that would've made him move at that very moment.

Well, almost, because just then there was the sound of a cell-phone ringing.

Spencer blinked with surprise. It wasn't the phone he'd gotten his hands on recently but the one to which he'd re-directed all calls to a much older phone he'd ditched long ago to avoid it being traced. That number… It hadn't been used in ages.

It kept ringing and ringing stubbornly, until a text message signaled that there was something in his voice mail. Ignoring how much even the simplest of movements hurt he took the phone and decided to listen to the message. Hoping and at the same time knowing that he was making a mistake.

"_Hey, sweetie. It's me._" Was that… really Penelope's voice…? Could it be…? She sounded choked, teary and worried. "_I don't know if you'll ever hear this, but… I just… I wanted to let you know that we haven't given up. That… That we still believe in you. And… We're going to bring you back home one day, okay? So you'd better hang in there. We're not giving up on you._" There was a brief pause. Was that a sob? "_Stay safe. We miss you_."

Spencer stared at the phone for a while with wide and moist, disbelieving eyes. Like it'd been a foreign, mysterious item. Then listened to the message again. And again. And again. Holding on to what was left of hope with everything there was in him.

In the end he fell asleep with the phone still close to his ear, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

* * *

It was already rather late in the evening and after a long, hard day of work followed by grocery shopping with Henry all Will wanted to do was to crawl into bed and sleep for a day. Of course he enjoyed spending time with Henry. But he'd barely seen JJ over the past four months and it was really starting to get to him. It was all getting pretty frustrating, if he was honest with himself.

"Daddy?" There was a hint of worry in Henry's voice. "Are you okay? You're frowning." Trust a child to notice everything.

Will did his best to create a convincing enough smile. "Yeah, of course. I'm just a bit hungry."

It was around then Will noticed that the car that'd been following them all the way from the grocery store was still after then. His frown deepened while he took a sudden turn. The other vehicle followed subtly. There was no doubt about it anymore. It was following them.

Will made up his mind quickly. With a swift motion that he usually wouldn't have dared to try, especially with Henry on board, he guided them into a heavy traffic. A couple of street corners later he could he sure that he'd lost their follower. His shoulders relaxed while he inhaled a sigh of relief.

"Where are we going?" Henry seemed understandably confused. "This isn't the road home."

Will managed a small smile. "I know, but I felt like taking a detour for change." He glanced towards his son. "What do you say if we'd order some pizza when we get home?"

Will, of course, couldn't possibly know that in the car that'd been following him Leah cursed loudly, slamming her fist at the steering wheel. Her thoughts whirred madly until he finally made up her mind and picked up her cell-phone. There was a storm in her eyes.

"_Hello?_" a voice she identified as Jennifer Jareau's picked up after a torturous wait.

Leah gritted her teeth, trying to figure out how to set her words. "I'm agent Leah Marrow, with the CIA. I'm not supposed to make direct contact, but… Your son and husband are in danger."

A couple of minutes later, completely unaware that the threat wasn't behind him, Will parked the car and began to usher his excitedly babbling son inside. He really, honestly imagined that the danger was over. That was until they walked in and closed the door, only to find themselves face to face with a man and a gun.

Henry grabbed his hand so tightly that it hurt. Recognizing the threat despite his age. "Daddy…!"

Will's eyes widened while they took in the nightmarish situation. So yes, perhaps he'd had some doubts that he wasn't quite proud of when evidence began to pile up against Spencer. But the man standing there, pointing a gun at him and his child, definitely wasn't Dr. Spencer Reid. Yet he recognized the gun.

JJ had a similar. It was the FBI's standard service gun. And he was willing to bet a lot of money that the one in the monster's hold could easily be traced back to Spencer.

"Henry", Will whispered, partially because he couldn't produce anything louder, partially because he didn't want his son to figure out just how terrified he was. He swallowed. "Run."

Henry did as he'd been told. Only when he could be sure that the child was on his way to safety Will focused on the intruder once more. The man chuckled, then clicked his tongue.

"Oh, Will", the monster sighed. "Such a noble act. But you do realize that it won't do you or Henry any good, don't you?"

Will's eyes flashed. He took a threatening step forward, his whole posture full of authority and his hand already reaching out towards his own gun. "I'm not letting you…!" He never got the chance to finish the sentence.

He'd reached his gun but the intruder was faster. A gunshot broke through the room's tense air. The first thing Will registered was immense pressure, penetrating his chest. Looking down with a degree of stun he saw a tiny yet steady river of crimson seeping out through the hole on his pale blue shirt. The hole was uncomfortably close to where his heart was hammering furiously.

The last thing he heard as he slumped down and darkness came was whistling and the sound of his cell-phone ringing.

Henry almost made it to safety until a firm pair of hands grabbed him, pulling him closer to some stranger despite his intense struggling. "Shh… Just stay calm, Henry." Something sharp pierced his skin. A needle? "We'll head for a little adventure." Everything became dark.

In a few minutes, already at a safe distance by the time JJ, the police and an ambulance arrived, Joseph Bell sent a text to the number he knew Spencer was currently using. Upon typing he cast a glance towards the rearview window, satisfied to see that Henry was still firmly under the grips of a sedative on the backseat. An ice cold smirk appeared to his face.

'_I've_ _understood that you know the location of something that's mine and I quite eagerly want it back. I'm going to contact you to arrange negotiations. Now I finally have something of yours to bargain with._

_Will you have this one last dance with me?_'

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: The plot is most definitely thickening. But gosh, poor Reid! And poor family of JJ and Will! How will this whole nightmare end?

Sooo… How was it? Any good? Please, do let me know! It'd be super good to hear from you.

Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll all join in then.

Take care!

* * *

**Patricia**: You totally made me beam with joy, you know? (chuckles) But seriously, it's BEYOND exciting to hear that you've enjoyed the story so much. I really hope that what's to come won't disappoint, either.

Colossal thank yous for the lovely review!

* * *

**Sniper**: So many open questions, no? I really wish that I could answer them right away but I can't. Don't worry, though. The next few chapters will provide A LOT of answers. (grins)

Ah, as for that woman in the final scene… We'll see if we'll meet her again. If we will it'll be briefly and I'll be sure to point out that it's her. I'm not cruel enough to make you try to remember all those names.

I'm overjoyed that it seems you're still enjoying the adventure! I really hope that you'll remain as excited as the story goes on.

Merci beaucoup! Until next time.

* * *

**guest**: I'm thrilled to hear that you've enjoyed the story thus far so much!

I'm afraid that I'll never manage to shake those off completely, since they're sort of a part of… well, me. BUT, I have lessened them to only one per author's note, so… Hopefully that's a acceptable compromise?

Huge thank yous for the review! I really hope that you'll keep enjoying the story.

* * *

**Essence**: Oh, how happy I am to hear that you think so! (BEAMS)

Gigantic thank yous for the lovely review! 'Hope you'll keep enjoying the ride.


	6. The Web Tightens

A/N: Phew! I almost missed a Sunday update. (Or maybe did, with mere minutes…) But here I am! We'll see what kind of a chapter I came with…

THANK YOU, a thousand times over, for all your reviews and support! This story has so many friends that it baffles me. You guys are simply wonderful! (HUGS)

Awkay, because it's running waaaaaaaaay too late… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

The Web Tightens

* * *

/ _The time inside Misty Meadows was a pure nightmare for Spencer, for more reasons than one. Every single day and night, every hour he spent awake, he dreamt of getting out. Of getting home. But there were also parts that weren't… entirely unpleasant._

_On his sixth day at the place in walked a woman of around his age, putting her long, blonde hair to a ponytail. A nurse, apparently. She flashed him a kind smile upon entering the room, her blue eyes radiating warmth. "Good morning, William", she greeted him. "I'm Anya. I'll be the nurse in main responsibility over your treatment."_

_Spencer nodded, trying to read her. She seemed genuinely kind and caring. But there was also something hiding underneath the surface…_

_By the time he was able to snap back into the present Anya was reading his file, a pen in hand. She cast a look at him only seconds after discovering that she had his attention. "How are you feeling right now?"_

_"Frustrated", Spencer admitted with brutal honesty. Locked up into a place where he didn't belong… Trying to find evidence against a very dangerous man… Everyone around him imagining that he was delusional… "And restless."_

_Anya nodded, making some notes. While she focused on writing Spencer tilted his head ever so slightly. Profiling subtly._

_Married. The piece of jewelry was gone but he saw a tan line. Left handed. No children. Had broken her ribs several times, based on the sound of her breathing. Quite a bit of bruises, too. But clearly not as a result of domestic violence. A martial arts expert?_

_"William." Anya seemed between amused and worried. "We're not going anywhere with this if you keep zoning out on me. I can't be that boring, can I?"_

_Spencer was unable to keep himself from responding to her smile._

_Anya grinned back. "Ah, much better." She gave him a few moments. "Now, why don't you help me get some idea about what's on your mind?"_

_Spencer gave her a small, wry smile. "I suppose that you wouldn't believe me if I told you that I'm not really sick?" Oh, the irony…_

_Anya's smiled held no humor. But there was sympathy in her eyes. "Let's say that I've heard that one before."_

_Just then the room's door opened without a knock. Dr. Joseph Bell peered in. "I'm… sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to remind you that we have a staff meeting."_

_Anya frowned, clearly not pleased with being disturbed while she was with a patient. There was softness on her features, though. "I'll be right there."_

_And there the final pieces finally collided. The protective look in Dr. Bell's eyes. The air between those two. Spencer's team had never found out that their suspect was a married man. This certainly made things more complicated._

_Because looking at Anya and seeing all the secrets on her face Spencer wasn't sure if the doctor or his wife seemed more interesting._ /

* * *

The old, long ago abandoned theater was empty, dusty, dark and, in Joseph Bell's opinion, horribly boring. Or well, perhaps not quite. Because as soon as he entered he felt a breath of threat in the air. It made the hair in the back of his neck stand up and adrenaline rush through his veins. A smirk appeared to his face.

Oh, how he'd missed this as a dead man…!

He ventured on until he stood on the stage. The audience was empty but he could've sworn that there were whispers echoing everywhere. The atmosphere of a soon starting premiere was still in the air, full of tension and electricity. "I've always known that you have a flare for drama", he pointed out, amusement seeping into his tone. "But isn't this overdoing it a little?"

Steps approached slowly. Taunting him. And then there was cold steel, pressed hard against the back of his skull. "You came after my family. Took Henry. That… does make me dramatic", Spencer's voice growled from behind him. "I could put a bullet into your skull and deem it a necessary evil. I'd only have to fill out some extra paperwork afterwards."

Joseph's smirk widened. "Yes, you could do that. But you won't. Because you're still much too fond of those silly little codes of honor to just butcher someone." He turned around fearlessly, blatantly ignoring the fact that the firearm was pointed at his forehead once he did, and took a good look at his companion. He clicked his tongue, arching an eyebrow. "Mine…! But haven't you grown up."

Spencer gritted his teeth so hard that it had to hurt.

Joseph tilted his head. "It's been such a long time. Tell me… Do they still haunt you? The stuttering, the occasional clumsiness, the fear of the dark, the nightmares…" He smiled, looking straight into the other's eyes. "For a moment I was afraid that I truly broke you, watching you stumbling your way through the first years with the FBI. You even failed your firearm qualification. But it seems that you've blossomed." His gaze traveled towards the white gold band recorating Spencer's left ring finger. A sigh left him. "But it seems that you're still hanging on to certain things."

The weapon was lowered to point at a far more delicate area of his body. "Another word about Anya and I'll pull the trigger", Spencer hissed. And clearly meant it.

Joseph's eyebrow remained up. "Still a sore topic, then? My apologies." He had no intention of turning down the heat, though. All the while his one hand was reaching out towards the weapon hidden into the covers of his long coat. "But I can't resist adding a one more delicious detail. As her husband I was told something quite fascinating." His hand squeezed slowly around the cool, comforting metal. "Did you know that she was pregnant again when she died? Do you want to know if that brat would've been yours, too?"

Something decidedly animalistic flashed in Spencer's eyes while moisture pooled into them. Joseph had never seen anything quite as dangerous in his life and for a moment he wondered if he'd jabbed too hard, too soon. If he'd underestimated the agent's speed.

Spencer's hand twitched, a bullet already nearly flying right at his most private parts. Joseph's own hand twitched as well, a flash away from pulling out the gun and firing a bullet between Spencer's eyes. But then a third voice interrupted them.

"Spencer, put the gun down! I've got him and we need him alive. Boss' orders. Bell, keep your hands where I can see them!"

Joseph's eyes were almost bored while they turned to register Leah, who was approaching him with a firearm held up high and sheer determination in her eyes. He sighed. "I knew that I should've started terminating your silly little team from you. You were always the most infurating one." He then focused on Spencer once more, appearing almost accusing. "I'm disappointed. Weren't we supposed to meet alone?"

Spencer shrugged. There was a twitch in the man's hand while he put away the gun. The reluctance was so thick that it could almost be tasted. "I met five of your men on my way here. Consider us even."

Joseph shrugged. "Fair enough." His eyes then flashed and it took absolutely all he had to keep himself in line while Leah began to cuff him. Or well, perhaps it wasn't entirely unpleasant… He leaned closer to her and got a spark of satisfaction from her shiver at the unexpected contact. "You do realize that you're never, ever going to Henry alive now, don't you?"

This time it was Spencer who smirked. "Of course I am. Did you really think that I'd leave his safety for a chance?" The agent's eyes flashed. "I knew, a long time ago, that one day your people may come after me. What I have… It's too valuable. So I ensured that if he would ever be used as a bargaining tool I'd be able to find him."

Joseph was genuinely impressed. Now this was unexpected. "You mean…?"

Spencer nodded. "I had him micro-chipped almost as soon as he was born as a precaution. I'm not proud of it but right now I don't regret one bit." Oh yes, there was a death threat in those eyes. "I'm the only one who knows where he'll be now. And if your people try to get to any member of my family again… Well, I know exactly which bits to tear off without making you unable to tell me everything I want to know about your web."

Joseph wrinkled his nose. "Oh, don't be so brute. It doesn't suit that pretty face."

"Alright, enough with the bad mouthing", Leah groaned, tugging the handcuffs far more harshly than would've been necessary. Joseph couldn't say that he minded too much. "Let's get going."

"Actually… I'll be the one to escort him there." Spencer's eyes were harder than steel and unreadable. "Boss' orders."

Joseph couldn't help feeling a massive shudder of surprise at the hostility. _Well how about this._ The events around him were turning out to be far more interesting than he'd expected.

* * *

Henry didn't like the cold and dark, closet like room he was locked into. He tried so very hard to be brave, just like mommy, daddy and uncle Spencer had taught him to, but it was getting very hard. He didn't know how long he'd spent locked up but he missed his parents terribly. He wanted to go home. Why wouldn't these people let him? He could hear footsteps outside.

And then, out of the blue, it all exploded into a chaos.

There was a lot of shouting until the metallic thunderstorm – bullets, weren't they? – began. It took all Henry had not to start screaming while the adults outside did. There were loud crashing noises, followed by even more havoc. At the end of it all only one set of footsteps was approaching the door that trapped him inside.

Henry gulped hard, his eyes widening, and withdrew as far into his cell's corner as he could. In the end the door was forced open. A blinding light assaulted his eyes and he yelped, immediately shielding his face.

"Henry?" That voice… It was familiar. "Henry, are you okay?"

Henry stared, barely daring to believe. And then a massive smile took over his face. "Aunt Emily!" he exclaimed, his voice filled by joy the kind only a child can feel.

Emily Prentiss grinned. Thankfully the boy was too excited to see the blood staining her shirt. "Hey, kid." She beckoned him to come closer. "Now come here. We've gotta leave. But whatever happens keep your eyes closed until we're outside, okay?"

* * *

It was thirty-two hours from when the worst nightmare of JJ's life began. From when she came home after a chilling call from a supposed agent, to find her son missing and her husband barely alive. Since then it'd been a storm of desperate searching, hoping, praying and sheer terror.

Will had been operated on instantly when he was admitted but they couldn't fix everything at one go. Since then his condition had stabilized and at the moment he was in his second surgery. Every glimpse of a doctor made JJ's heart shudder.

So far there hadn't been a trace of Henry but after furious investigations they'd managed to learn new things on Dr. Joseph Bell. A couple of failed marriages, two lawsuits that'd been dropped abruptly… Notable things but nothing that could've been really used against him. Despite all their efforts and struggles they were stuck.

The tension, uncertainty and constant disappointments were taking their toll on the remaining BAU-family that had camped into the hospital's waiting room. They were exhausted, fed up and scared. One additional member of their family had been nearly killed, a child was missing and one of their own had already spent months on a desperate run. How were they supposed to bring an end to it?

Finally, after listening to the rest of them bickering on and off all night, Alex Blake had enough. "Look… We're all worried. This is a horrible situation." She looked at the entire team. "But we won't be any closer to solving this whole mess if we go at each other. The man we're after is a monster. We need to focus on trying to figure out how to stop him."

JJ opened her mouth to say something she might've regretted until her cell-phone began to ring. She frowned at the unfamiliar number but something urged her to pick up. For some reason her heart was hammering even before she spoke. "Hello?"

"_Mommy?_" Yes, that voice was without a doubt Henry's. Free of pain and fear. "_Mommy, I'm safe now with aunt Emily. I'm okay_."

For a moment or two JJ was completely paralyzed by shock. And then the tears began to fall while uncontrollable trembling took over her entire body. Could this…? Was this really…? "Oh sweetie…!" was all she could muster in the end.

"_I… I wanna come home, but… Emily says that we have to hide, for a while._" Henry sobbed once, there, although she could tell that he tried to hide it. "_I miss you, mommy_."

JJ wiped her eyes although more tears came immediately. She wasn't sure if she was sobbing or laughing. Maybe both. She was definitely in a state of shock. "I miss you too, honey. But… I'll see you soon. I promise."

"_Okay._" She could hear how her son tried to control his emotions. "_Bye, mommy. I love you_."

"I love you, too." And then, just, before he hung up, she added something. "And Henry? Tell aunt Emily thank you. A thousand times."

She didn't know which one of them ended the call or how her cell-phone ended up to the floor. But all of a sudden she was borderline hypervitilating, her face buried into her hands from nose down and her heart racing madly. Bursting with shock, relief and joy.

"JJ?" Derek was looking at her with deep worry, as were the others. "What's wrong?"

JJ never had the time to catch her breath for the answer before the room's door opened. In came a surgeon of around her age, a grim look on his face. "Jennifer Jareau? I… have some news about your husband."

* * *

Leah Marrow certainly wasn't an idiot. And when she noticed the way Spencer acted towards her all alarm bells went off inside her head. Something was badly wrong.

She thought about it long and hard after leaving behind a group of crime scene technicians to finish up at the theater. She barely cast a glimpse at the corpses of Joseph's men. As soon as she made it to her car she slammed the door, took her cell-phone and dialed numbers.

Her call went to a voice mail. She swore loudly before delivering her actual message. "There's… Something's wrong, with Spencer. I'm not sure if we can trust him anymore. Call me as soon as you get this." With that she hung up.

The person she'd been trying to reach didn't call back. Instead she received a text message. One that turned her blood into ice.

'_Good luck on your way up, princess_.'

Leah's heart skipped a beat. Mostly because there was only one person who'd ever called her princess. And secondly because all of a sudden she had all the answers she'd been looking for. Moments too late.

She managed to place a frantic hand to the car's door handle before the vehicle exploded in a fiery inferno.

* * *

There was only a handful of people who knew about the tiny, almost abandoned CIA-base located conveniently only twenty minutes' drive from the theater. Chosen from one of the city's most isolated corners, carefully out of everyone's eyes and designed to arouse as little suspicion as possible.

It was the only place Spencer considered secure enough to contain Joseph Bell. At least for the time being. Because there were some things he was determined to dig out.

It took ages before the five agents that helped him bring Joseph in had finally secured the criminal mastermind into a interrogation room and left. He was just about to enter when Ian Hollard's familiar figure materialized beside him. They both stared at the criminal wordlessly.

"I never thought that this day would come", Ian confessed.

Spencer's jawline tightened. All the pain… The losses… The sacrifices… "Me neither", he agreed quietly. It was still unclear if his reputation would ever be cleared. But at least they had the murderer in custody. That was a very good start.

The silence continued for a while until Ian glanced towards him. "So… There was something you wanted to tell me about your time on the run. Did it have something to do with your micro-chip?"

Spencer swallowed and nodded, his focus on the criminal sitting there, only steps away, as well as on something else entirely. "Ian… There's a reason why I had it removed." A shiver crossed him. "Already… back then I suspected that there was a mole amongst the CIA. And based on the information that kept leaking to Bell's people it had to be someone from our team."

Ian swallowed hard. "And then the deaths began", the man muttered darkly. "One hell of a way to narrow down suspects."

Spencer nodded tensely. "There's… I found out something a few hours ago, before I called you. The call that tipped Bell on when and where to attack JJ's family came from Leah's cell-phone."

"Yes, I know." And all of a sudden the air was far more threatening. "But Leah wasn't the one who made the call."

Spencer felt sick to his stomach while realization dawned, slowly but inevitably. It made far too much sense, now. All of it.

He'd miscalculated.

He swallowed. Cold sweat lingered on his skin while he began to reach out towards his weapon. Around then his eyes darted towards the security camera placed to a ceiling corner nearby. It'd been switched off. "You're one of his men."

"No." The feel of cold steel against his head froze him effectively. "Not just one of his men. You still don't get it, do you?" Ian chuckled in a way he'd never heard before. "I started building up the network a long, long time ago. But from the beginning I knew that I needed someone the operate as the public face. I had no desire to expose myself to a danger like that so I needed a person insane enough to take my place. It took a long time to find someone as perfect as Bell."

Spencer felt cold all over. The pieces were sliding together in his head, the understanding making him feel nauseated. "So the entire time you led our team…?" How the hell was it possible that he didn't see a thing?!

Ian grinned icily. "It's brilliant when you think about it, isn't it? You can't even imagine how exciting it was to play on both sides of the law. A CIA unit chief as the leader of a massive criminal organization? No one knew to expect that."

Well Spencer, to his shame, shock and outrage, didn't. Ian had everyone fooled, him included. The fact that no one saw the spider himself was what made the man's web so invincible. He stared at the barrel of the gun, entirely too aware of the fact that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "You're going to kill me." It wasn't a question.

"Nope." The look on Ian's face brought him no comfort. "You have something that I'm determined to take, one way or the other. You won't die a second until I allow it. Until you beg for it."

With that the gun came into contact with his head and everything became pitch-black.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Well surely you didn't think that I'd make it THAT easy…? Gosh, poor Reid! After everything he's been through BAM, he's in the hands of those maniacs. (winces)

PLEASE, do leave a note to let me know your thoughts! Good? Bad? Plain weird? The word is yours.

I've reeeeeeeeeally gotta go to bed. (yawns) Until next time, folks! 'Hope I'll c ya there.

Take care!

* * *

**Patricia**: I'm so, so happy that you've enjoyed the story thus far and that you like this kind of Reid so much! What can I say? I LOVE typing him like this. (smirks)

Poor JJ indeed! Hopefully her family will be safe and sound. Reid included!

Monumental thank yous for the review! I really hope that you'll enjoy what's to come as much.

* * *

**Sniper**: Awww, nothing to worry about. And the big picture is already clearing out. (grins) As to the names, the only ones necessary to remember are Ian Hollard and Dr. Joseph Bell. The rest will be clarified as well as possible if they pop up.

Those poor things, right? Let's just hope that it all ends well. Especially for little Henry!

Huge thank yous for the review! I really hope that the next one turns out worth the wait.


	7. The Brazilian Huntsman

A/N: Yup, it's Sunday. Which means that it's time for another update. (grins) But first…

THANK YOU, so very much, for your absolutely fantastic reviews, listings and love for this lil' thing! It means the world to me that so many of you are on board. I'll definitely do my very best to maintain your excitement!

On a sidenote, I was sort (okay, VERY…) excited by your reactions to the revelation in the previous chapter. We'll see just how twisted this story gets before the end…

Awkay, I've been stalling more than enough! Sooooo… Let's rock!

* * *

The Brazilian Huntsman

* * *

/ _Weeks scrolled by and Spencer, to his shock, found himself growing accustomed to his new situation. He tried to tell himself that it was necessary for his psyche to be able to handle the captivity. In reality it felt like succumbing to his inevitable fate. Having to fake symptoms and coming up with new ways to dodge medication didn't help. But something, or rather someone, kept him rooted to sanity and reality. He talked to Anya almost daily about anything and everything. Truth became confused with the delicate net of lies that he was forced to maintain. He wondered if it was the same for her, since she couldn't be exactly fully open with someone she considered her patient. And then, of course, there was the air of secrecy around her. He'd seen her almost every singly day for weeks but he felt like he'd only met one of her several different sides._

_Through it all the major plan did work on one level. He learned new things about Dr. Bell. New character traits, such as possessiveness. Oh, how the man hated him, and he didn't hesitate to push those buttons. If he'd manage to break the criminal's focus the man might finally make a mistake. Over time Spencer also knew to connect the hickeys Anya didn't quite manage to hide to some of the sickest kills in the country. During which, conveniently, Dr. Bell was attending to a conference. The man got off on his kills, then. From the shadows he watched how the criminal operated. Joseph Bell was a highly intelligent, narcissistic perfectionist and a brilliant character actor who played the entire hospital like his very own puppet theater. Spencer wondered with chills how long he had until he'd be caught._

_But for the time being he remained in a close contact with Anya, telling himself that he was doing the right thing and that it was for the benefit of the case. That he wasn't enjoying the time with her too much. Such like when they finished a game of chess to his victory on one rainy afternoon. Anya smirked, shaking her head. "The second time I lose today…! How do you do it?"_

_Spencer shrugged. "I've got an IQ of 187." Seeing her bewildered expression he hurried to add. "I don't really believe in those tests, though."_

_Anya chuckled good naturedly. "Oh, don't give me that bull, boy wonder." She began to prepare the board for another round. "You know, William… It's good to finally have a formidable opponent."_

_Spencer bit his tongue. But the words escaped anyhow. "It's Spencer."_

_Anya looked at him, long and hard. Either seeing far too much or catching all the wrong hints. "Okay, then." It was impossible to tell if she sounded curious, worried or wary. Perhaps all of them. "Spencer." They started round three in a companionable silence._

_Later that day Spencer was walking around the ward to clear his head when he reached the end of a rather shadowy hallway only the members of staff used. Or that was usually the case. Because as he looked closer he saw a man that had to be head's worth taller than him, hiding in the semi dark. And then he saw Anya, who was walking towards a door on the patient's right, clearly too deep in thought to notice the threat. The patient, on the other hand, began to prepare himself._

_Spencer was just about to interfere, blowing his cover be damned, when it became clear that Anya wouldn't be needing protection. Apparently she'd been far more prepared than he'd imagined. Long before the patient had the chance to really touch her a swift, perfectly aimed leg moved, sending the man down. In a flash Anya was on top of him, the cursing and screaming patient's wrists firmly in her hold. With a fast, fluid motion she used the device hanging nearby her hip to call for backup. That was when she finally noticed him. Her eyes widened while a bit of color disappeared from her face. Because she knew exactly what he'd seen and which solid conclusions he'd drawn._

_Of course she'd been taught some basic self-defense skills due to her work. But the awareness and reflexes she'd just shown… Those weren't learned from a few lessons of martial arts. They came through years of fieldwork. But just who did she work for?_

_Well, didn't Spencer think from the start that there was something interesting to her?_ /

* * *

'_Okay, then. Spencer_.'

"Spencey, it's time to wake up now." It was the about last voice he wanted to hear. "We've got a lot of excitement ahead of us."

Spencer _didn't_ want to wake up to this reality. But he didn't exactly have a choice. His head was still groggy while he assessed his situation. His wrists had been cuffed firmly and there seemed to be something trapping his ankles as well. His upper body had been exposed and the room's drafty air made him feel cold all over. Finally he cracked his eyes half open, wincing at the surge of pain that shot through him. His head was the worst bit but the rest of him didn't feel much better.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Joseph's expression held absolutely no remorse. "We had to be a little rough while taking you here. You may have some… bruises."

Somehow Spencer doubted that he would've been quite _that_ lucky. But at the moment he was far more worried about finding out where, exactly, he was. His eyes darted around subtly. And in a few moments his heart skipped a couple of beats while realization dawned.

It was Anya and Joseph's house – and the room where…

He was forced to send his mother to a psychiatric hospital when he was barely an adult. Since then he'd been shot at, poisoned, almost blown up, kidnapped and tortured. He'd been forced to watch Maeve being executed right before his eyes. But even after all that the room around him was the greatest of all his nightmares. The tidal wave of pain that swell immediately was almost more than he could bear.

Joseph appeared very pleased when the man noticed that he'd caught on. A predatory smirk appeared to the criminal's face. "You have a flare for drama. So do I." The man shrugged. "And since you're going to die in the end, anyway… What would be a more befitting environment?" The madman seemed entirely too pleased with the idea. "I can already imagine what the newspapers are going to be talking about for weeks. 'A long sought FBI-agent turned murderer committed a suicide in a victim's house.' They're crazy about stories like this."

Spencer swallowed thickly. It didn't help with the bitter taste sitting firmly in his mouth. "I… may not walk out alive", he admitted hoarsely. "But neither… will you."

Joseph shrugged carelessly while going through a massive black bag in the room's corner. "We'll see about that." A grin lit up the man's face. "Ah, there it is!"

Spencer really, honestly didn't want to know what it was but he couldn't really not look, either. So he did. What he saw brought a frown to his face, along with some very unpleasant chills.

_A blindfold…?_

"I happen to know that you and Anya had… fun with these. She never requested a blindfold before you came along." And before he could move a muscle Joseph had covered his eyes with black fabric. "Upon leaving Ian told me that I'm allowed to entertain myself. And that is exactly what I'm going to do."

Spencer's heart hammered while he sat absolutely still. Waiting. Unable to do a thing to stop whatever was happening.

Cool, hard metal brushed the exposed skin of his upper body, causing him to stiffen. Joseph chuckled with satisfaction upon noticing his reaction. "It's irritating to be unable to see, isn't it?" One hand stroked his hair while the other pressed the metal closer. "Don't worry, I'm not allowed to kill you yet. This is going to be all fun and games."

* * *

At the hospital the mood was nothing short of grim while the remaining team kept trying to make sense of the puzzle that'd been dropped into their hands. They were getting closer and their profile on Jonathan Bell was solidifying. But it was much too slow, for them and especially for Spencer who was fighting all alone who knows where.

David frowned when he entered the room, returning from his turn of getting them all coffee. He looked around. "Where's JJ?"

Derek sighed. "With Will. They came to tell her that they're trying to wake him up."

A somewhat morose silence filled the room. They all knew what it'd mean if he wouldn't wake up. Then, with absolutely all their determination, they re-focused on the puzzle.

None of them pointed out that still, after over four months, David had bought one coffee too many.

"We're missing something", Aaron murmured. There were new lines of frustration and worry on the man's face. "What are we missing?"

Somewhat cautious steps entering the room caught all their attention. There, stood by the room's doorway, was a young nurse who looked stunningly lot like a female Spencer. She was offering an envelope towards them. "I… A woman left something for you. I promised to deliver it."

Derek accepted the item with a somewhat stiff nod. "Thank you." They didn't open it before she'd left them room.

As soon as they saw the contents the room's temperature dropped. For a long, stilled moment all they could do was stare. "Oh my god…!"

* * *

Chief Lincoln Rhyes absolutely hated to admit it but his newest case, the one everyone seemed to be keeping an eye on, was stuck. Bell's body or the man himself hadn't been found. Nor had Spencer. There was an occasional trace every now and then but the tracks disappeared as quickly as they appeared. It was like chasing two ghosts and Lincoln was growing sick of it. Well, at least the FBI-team wasn't breathing down his neck anymore.

Deciding to ignore the fact that he was on duty Lincoln was about to gulp down a very strong drink when there was a knock on his office door. He hid the tiny bottle as quickly as he could and cleared his throat. "Yes?"

In walked a tall man who could've been straight out of a British detective story. Dark-brown hair that had the tiniest touch of silver, sharp eyes of impossibly deep brown and a long, black coat to seal the image. A perfectly steady hand pulled out a badge. "Unit chief Ian Hollard, CIA. I came to talk to you about… an associate you've been looking for."

Lincold stared. And then, after far too long, it finally clicked. "Wait…! Are you saying that Spencer Reid…?!" So that lunatic managed to fool the FBI and the CIA. This was just too good to be true…!

"Yes." Chief Hollard's voice was tight with suppressed emotions. "I'm sorry that I didn't come to you sooner but this… is a very delicate matter and we wanted to complete our own investigations first. I'm sure you understand."

Lincoln nodded. To be honest he wasn't sure how much he managed to understand but he wasn't about to admit it to this man. "So, why now?" Well, it sounded like a justifiable question.

"Because this has gone too far. And with a group of jaded FBI-agents helping him this is the only way either of us has any hope of catching him." Chief Hollard's eyes were grave when the man took a small device from his pocket. "One of my agents, Leah Marrow… was killed recently. Just before her death she left this message into my answering machine."

Lincoln leaned closer, his heart hammering with excitement.

The woman's voice was tense, unstedy from a thunderstorm of emotions. "_There's… Something's wrong, with Spencer. I'm not sure if we can trust him anymore. Call me as soon as you get this_."

Chief Hollard was quiet for a moment. "Before this… it was merely suspicion. We didn't want to believe that he was the monster he'd been portrayed as. But now I know that he needs to be stopped."

Lincoln blinked once, slowly. "And you want my help?" It was surreal, really.

Chief Hollard nodded. "I want to keep the CIA as far away from this as possible. That's why we can't be behind the capture." The man's eyes were unreadable. "He was behind the car bomb that killed agent Marrow, which means that he's returned to Virginia. Keep it subtle, stay quiet about his involvement with the CIA and I'll enlist my people to help yours. You'll get all the credit."

Lincoln smirked. This was going to lead to big things, of that he was sure. "We have a deal."

* * *

Spencer waited, his heart thudding in his chest and his blood rushing so hard that it was deafening. He expected the knife to pierce his skin. It never did. Instead he felt a needle. And somehow that was far worse.

"Judging by the way you shuddered I have a feeling that you know exactly what I just gave you. Or at very least you suspect. And you're right." Joseph was nearly purring while tapping his cheek with a oddly affectionate hand. "Did you really think that I wasn't paying attention to you during my time away? I've studied every… little… detail. It saddens me that you stooped so low to run away from the nightmares."

Adreline and terror swirled in Spencer's veins while he tried to make his own calculations. How much had he been given? It was already starting to grab a hold of him. His head… It didn't feel right.

"I gave you just enough to make this feel even more profound." A rough hand grabbed his arm. "I don't want you to miss a single second."

Spencer's heart was jumping and shattering at the same time while understanding dawned through all the drugged haze. He was very glad that Joseph wasn't able to see his eyes, the tears pooling into them. The blade was there once more, placed determinedly to a very special mark on his skin.

There, just high enough to be disguised by any long sleeved shirt, was tattoo that consisted of three parts. There was a set of twelve numbers, symbolising two very special dates. Right below them was a heart with the symbol of eternity on top of it.

Joseph was silent for a while before speaking in the kind of a voice Spencer had never heard before. "You took away something that's mine", the criminal reminded him. It would've sounded emotionless, business like, if it wasn't for the undertones. "So I want you to remember until the moment you die and beyond that I responded in kind."

The blade slashed deeper than Spencer had expected and it took his all not to succumb to the desire to scream. Warm blood gushed to his skin while pain shot through him like a river of ice. The blade carried on mercilessly, tearing through the heart and the symbol of eternity. Splitting them in two, breaking them.

It seemed to take forever before Joseph was done. In a few seconds the man whispered into his ear. "There, now the sentimental part is over with. We can finally move on to the real fun."

The sharp metal came down once more, this time sinking hungrily to the skin of arm. It toyed around his wrists as well but didn't sink deep enough to cause irreversible damage. Joseph knew enough about human anatomy to make it excruciatingly painful but not life-threatening. And every wound was such he could've easily inflicted on himself. If Joseph and Ian were trying portray him as a psychotic killer who took his own life in the end…

Spencer's drugged head was howling with agony and in the end, after what felt like the millionth cut, he finally broke down to a small, pathetic mew.

Clearly it excited Joseph. The man chuckled. "So you do feel something. I was starting to worry that you'd passed out already." The murderer rubbed his hands together purposefully loudly. "So, now that I've warmed up… Let's move on. And remember, it's all business now. You know exactly what you need to tell me to make me stop."

There was a clatter of metal. Somehow Spencer knew to expect the worst. He braced himself once more, the best as the drug coursing through his system allowed. He'd seen the state of the corpses Joseph left behind. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"A word of warning, because I intend to be honest with you." Something sharp and metallic he instantly recognized as a needle touched his skin. "This_ is_ going to hurt."

* * *

It was all there, right before the team's eyes, but they were barely able to believe it. The results of a paternity test which Bell had issued. And all of a sudden they understood just how much this whole battle against Joseph Bell meant to Spencer.

Because Diane Bell wasn't Joseph's daughter, she was Spencer's.

"They…" Penelope choked out. Tears pooled into her eyes and her whole body trembled. "That bastard killed his…!"

They were all shocked and horrified. In a state of complete disbelief. They finally had something that might help them nail Dr. Bell. But it definitely wasn't the kind of an answer they would've ever wanted.

All the years they'd known him Spencer had been carrying this with him…!

Derek stormed out of the room and they were all much happier not knowing where the man went. David and Penelope simply stared at the information they'd just received, one of them in tears and the other not too far although he tried to hold himself back. Aaron, on the other hand, moved.

The nurse who left them the missing clue seemed rightfully startled when he cornered her. "The woman who left you the envelope…", he half snarled, sounding far harsher than he'd meant to. "Did she tell you her name?"

The nurse nodded quickly, clearly eager to get out of the situation as fast as possible. "Yes. Yes, she did. It was Lauren Reynolds."

* * *

When the first needle pierced his skin Spencer felt like he'd been set on fire. The pain… It was unbearable. He gasped, a tremor crossing him, but for the time being he didn't scream.

"The needles… They're quite fascinating, really." Joseph sounded like he'd been talking about the weather. Another needle's touch could be felt. "With using the right spots I can push you straight to hell. And it'll leave barely a mark."

The second needle did its job and Spencer's head spun while sheer agony sped up and down. He groaned, there, and fought subtly against his restraints. Away… He wanted to get away.

Joseph hummed with satisfaction. "Feels so good, doesn't it? But I haven't heard the safety word yet."

It seemed that Joseph was losing his patience. There was barely enough time for a breath between needles three and four. Spencer's whole body was pulsating with pain and all his instincts screamed at him to get out. To do and say anything to make it stop, one way or the other.

Still he kept his mouth shut. He sat absolutely still, trembling and gasping, doing whatever he could to chase away at least a tiny portion of the discomfort. In the end his mind focused, delivered him a flood of bittersweet flashes.

Of his mom.

Of his team, his surrogate family.

Of his CIA-team.

Of Maeve.

Of Anya.

Of a baby girl he only ever got the chance to see twice.

The heartache that filled him kept him from feeling the next couple of needles. At that point he was too far gone to care about the couple of tears that escaped from his hold. All the feelings that he'd been forced to keep bottled up came flooding out for a couple of fleeting seconds.

So many people he'd failed…

"Everyone you love will die", Joseph declared. And meant it. "How many families do you have to lose until you finally understand that the struggle isn't worth it? That you lost the moment all those people grew attached to you?" The criminal leaned closer, bringing along the next needle. "You're poison, Spencer. Everything you touch withers away. So give in already and bring an end to it."

The needle… It burned like nothing else ever had. Tore through soft tissue and flesh, seemed to sink right into his heart although he knew that it was impossible. And Spencer knew, long before his body betrayed him, that he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer.

_I'm so sorry…!_

There, in a moment of utter despair, he howled at the top of his lungs. "PHONEUTRIA FERA!"

* * *

TBC

* * *

1) 'Phoneutria fera' is the Latin term for a spider species called The Brazilian huntsman, which is (according to Quinnes World Records) the most poisonous spider in the world and also very aggressive. As for what this means… We'll have to wait and see.

* * *

A/N: Okay, ouch. (winces) That… was kind of, sort of, painful. And the story isn't over yet… Although there aren't many chapters left.

Sooooo… What's the verdict? Now it's your chance to speak up and let me hear it!

Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll all join in for that one.

Take care!

* * *

**Sniper**: And the Spider's true face become revealed. We'll see just what happens next… Thank gosh little Henry is safe, at very least!

Gosh, I'm so, so happy to hear that you're so excited about the story! I really hope that you'll find what's to come as engaging.

Merci beaucoup for your review!

* * *

**Patricia**: And it's all spun around, hasn't it? (winces) Gosh, let's hope that he makes it through this mess! We can, at least, breathe in a sigh of relief when it comes to Henry. Trust our beloved genius to think ahead like that. (smirks)

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	8. Trap Wire

A/N: Yup, it's Sunday. Which, of course, means an update! (grins) First things first, though…

THANK YOU, a thousand times over, for all your amazing reviews! Gosh, I still can't believe how much love this story's gotten. You're precious! (HUGS)

Awkay, before I get any more mushy… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride. Prepare yourselves for a hurricane.

* * *

Trap Wire

* * *

/ _It took almost a week before Spencer finally got the answers that he needed from Anya. He didn't know if she was avoiding him but he barely even saw her. That was until one rainy evening brought her to his room._

_There was a solemn look on Anya's face while she made sure that no one saw her entry, then closed the door. "This is the only place where we can go through this without any cameras watching", she explained. "We don't have a lot of time. So ask whatever you want to now and I'll do the same."_

_"Who do you work for?" was the first instinctive demand._

_Anya sighed. "Anya Holmes, Interpol. I was assigned on this project thirteen months ago. My goal was to get close enough to the Spider to find evidence and hints on how far his web goes."_

_Spencer shivered. The whole mess was starting to make sense but he certainly didn't like it. "And by getting closer you mean…?"_

_Anya's eyes flashed hazardously. "His organization is a massive threat. I'm willing to do just about anything it takes to bring it down."_

_"I'm sorry", Spencer apologized immediately. "I just… It doesn't sound fair that you have to waste your life like this."_

_Anya gave him a wry smile. "Says the man who pretends to be a psychiatric patient." Seeing the look on his face she scoffed. "Please…! I may not be a real psychiatrict nurse but I'm a trained agent and I've been talking to you for weeks. I can tell real schizophrenia symptoms apart from faked ones. Although I have to admit that your act was very convincing."_

_Spencer bit his teeth together. "I have a lot of experience", he muttered. Silently wishing that she wouldn't pry further._

_And Anya didn't. Instead she asked something very different. "You've had your questions. Now it's my turn." Her eyes were sharp and demanding upon meeting his. "Who do you work for?"_

_"The CIA." Spencer swallowed. After spending so many weeks – months – in captivity it felt strange to think back on those days. "Our first plan was to simply eliminate Joseph but then we discovered how deep and wide his web is. Killing him would be like chopping off a Hydra's head. Two more would grow in its place."_

_Anya nodded with a grim, almost dangerous expression. "If we want to stop him we need to blow up the web entirely. We already have several agents observing his most important men."_

_"So do we. But it isn't enough." Spencer tensed up when steps passed by the room. He didn't manage to relax even after they disappeared. "Sometimes it feels like there's something keeping us from getting to the very root. I'm not sure if it can be stopped entirely."_

_"It can." Anya's eyes were in flames. "That web's cost me two brothers and a lot of co-workers. We will stop it, no matter what." She then got up, clearly about to leave. "I have to go. My shift is almost over and Joseph will ask questions if I'm late."_

_A sudden impulse overcome Spencer, one he'd spent weeks smothering. "Anya, wait." And just two steps before she would've made it away he pressed his lips to hers, sealing her into a kiss he hoped spoke everything he couldn't._

_All too soon she broke off. Her expression was unreadable but her eyes were a entirely different story. "Joseph isn't an idiot. We can't let him spot you. Be careful", she adviced._

_Spencer nodded. His mouth opened twice before any sound came. The words weren't those he'd been looking for. "You too."_

_Even as Anya slipped away they both knew that they'd see each other again, a lot. Spencer stood there for quite a long time, staring at the door. And did something he hadn't done in ages._

_He smiled, feeling a genuine flutter of excitement and hope._ /

* * *

When Spencer woke up, wondering how long he'd been unconscious, it was to someone typing on a laptop. Soon there was a string of curses in several languages. Despite being in pain he smirked.

"You're awake, aren't you?" Joseph's voice was still smooth but there was a clearly traceable tremor of threat. A promise that things would turn ugly. "It was a very stupid move to feed me a false password."

Spencer shook his head the best as he could, struggling his eyes open. Joseph's face seemed blurry but at least he could tell where the man was. "It wasn't false", he assured the other. "You just… don't have everything you need."

When Joseph moved he saw the reason to the criminal's agitation. On the laptop's screen was nothing but a list of spider species, followed by a similar list in Latin. Code names of targets and agents. The result of years upon years of co-operation between several agencies all over the world. A small miracle.

Reduced to nothing more than a jumbled mess.

"Oh yes, I do see that I don't have everything", Joseph hissed, so close that he felt the man's breath. "And you… are going to help me. Unless you want this to become even more unpleasant."

Spencer knew that he should've been terrified and his heart was beating madly while blood rushed at a unhealthy speed. But still he smirked. "Even if I wanted to… I wouldn't be able to. No one knows all the names. That was the policy." He had to take a pause when a jolt of pain crossed him. Quite possible broken ribs weren't pleasant. "Every agency added their input and the whole thing was divided to two flash drives. It takes the programs and files on each of them… to connect the real names of agents to the names of their target members of the Web."

Joseph nodded slowly. The man appeared impressed but also very, very irritated. To an extend where blood would definitely be drawn soon. "I see. And where is that second flash drive?"

Spencer met the other's eyes without a hint of fear. Perhaps too far gone in shock or something deeper to feel anything much. "In someplace safe."

The punch was so hard and unexpected that it stole Spencer's breath. Or maybe it was the chokehold the murderer had on his throat. "Do… not… tempt… me!" Joseph snarled, a hand still firmly blocking his airways. "I took this one from Anya's dead fingers. Imagine what I'd be able to do for the second one."

Spencer kept his silence. Kept staring right ahead. Hoped dearly that his plan would work. That this risk would turn out worth taking.

Well, Joseph was certainly losing his patience quickly. "Alright then." The killer nodded to himself. "You want to do this the hard way? That's fine." The man chuckled. "Ian told me not to leave suspicious marks. He should've known that I don't listen to instructions well."

With that Spencer's chair was all but flung through the air.

* * *

Chief Lincoln Rhyes was just about to take his third sharp drink since Ian Hollard's departure when one of his officers, a woman in her early thirties named Amy Rivers, appeared to his office. There was fire and alert in her large, brown eyes. "Sir, we just received a call. There's… been some commotion in Joseph and Anya Bell's old house."

Chief Rhyes blinked twice lazily. "Oh?" He then frowned. "And?"

Amy appeared very fed up and anxious. "Sir, no one's lived there in years. It was sold, but… There's never been a sign of life since Anya and their baby were killed."

Chief Rhyes' heart jumped in a far from healthy manner. Could this really mark the beginning of the end for this case? The beginning of his fame and glory? "Alright, alright." He took a deep breath, steeling himself. His blood was rushing from excitement and anticipation. "Give me a moment, then we go. I want to be there at the time of the arrest, understood?"

* * *

The chair crashed against the floor mercilessly. Spencer's head slammed down so hard that for several long moments all he saw was shadows and stars. But he fought his way out of the dusk stubbornly. Because he noticed something that Joseph was too worked up to see. His plan did work.

The chair's whole structure had been broken underneath him.

He had just enough time to see a fist coming from the corner of his eye before it already connected with his face. For the second time in a much too short while his head connected violently with the floor and he came dangerously close to losing consciousness. It took absolutely all he had to pull himself back from the brink.

As soon as he had Joseph's hand slammed on his throat. Hard, merciless. "You… are… going to tell me where that flash drive is", the man hissed. "Unless you'd rather die."

Spencer gasped wheezing breaths, his body going into a state of full alarm and chaos at the sudden lack of oxygen and his mind was trying to count how much time he had. His hands were moving restlessly while he stared at the other man, already almost free from the cuffs. Until he realized that he'd have to do something very, very unpleasant to break free. Joseph's lips kept moving but he couldn't hear a word. All he could focus on was the upcoming couple of minutes. He tried to breathe and then, ignoring the screaming protests of his body and mind, broke the bone.

The pain was absolutely unbelievable and only the hold on his throat kept him from screaming. For a moment his vision swayed , his head trying to free him from the agony, but he kept hanging on. Concentrated on the next step instead of the horrible present moment.

His damaged hand slid out of the cuff and in a flash both of them were free.

Joseph's eyebrow arched as the man finally released the hold. "You're still awake, aren't you? I don't like how hazy your eyes were becoming. You and I… We're not through yet."

Those words snapped something inside Spencer. He could actually feel how his eyes flashed with rage while his body prepared itself. "You know what, Joseph?" he panted, his breathing still a struggle. "We are."

His good fist flew forward in a flash, sending a stunned Joseph backwards. Spencer didn't hold still and wait for the monster to recover. Instead he crawled on, towards the blood stained crib that'd been left into the room. He focused firmly on not thinking about the child – his daughter – that slept in it for a while. Instead he concentrated on what'd been put to a hidden locker underneath it.

He'd protested it but Anya insisted that she wanted protection to be close to her daughter. Now Spencer understood. Because the gun, their own little secret, that his healthy hand reached was still right there, fully operational.

Joseph growled while getting up. He turned his head and upper body just in time to see the man straightening his form, pulling out a gun from the covers of his coat. "You really shouldn't have tested my nerves", the criminal growled.

They pointed their guns at the exact same time and one trigger was pulled.

For a moment they stared at each other. Spencer's heart pounded painfully loudly in his ears while he waited, felt his own body for signs of damage. And then Joseph fell limply, mere seconds after a trail of blood began to leak from the hole in his chest.

* * *

In the meantime the team was still struggling where they were stuck at the hospital when all of a sudden Penelope gasped. They were all alerted instantly. "Are you alright?" Derek inquired tensely.

Penelope nodded slowly, most likely barely hearing. "I just… Well, since we're stuck I went back to the start and… I may have found something."

Well, that certainly earned her all the attention in the room. Derek, Alex, David and Aaron were all staring at her expectantly. "Well?" the unit chief ushered her on.

Penelope took a deep breath, unable to tear her gaze away from the laptop's screen. "The house of Joseph and Anya Bell, the one where she…" She gritted her teeth. "Well, it was finally sold a few years ago. To a man named Alexander Reeves."

"And…?" David coaxed, a shudder of suppressed emotions in his voice.

Penelope looked at them all with wide, disbelieving eyes. "The thing is… He doesn't even exist."

It took only seconds for it to sink in. At that moment the room burst into life. How could they miss something this obvious?! "We have to go, now!" Derek snarled.

* * *

It felt surreal, all of it. It was like a bizarre mixture of a nightmare and a dream come true. Spencer blinked twice, slowly, just to make sure. The sight remained.

Still gasping he stumbled closer to Joseph, slumping to his knees beside the monster. The man's unhealthily loud breaths sounded painful and laboured. He hit a lung, then. After all the years the killer had been haunting his nightmares the man was dying, right there before his eyes.

For a few moments Spencer stared at the trail of blood running from Joseph's mouth, then focused on the man's rapidly glazing over eyes. "You… took away my… everything", he half-gasped, half-growled, sounding like a wounded wild beast. "Dying… like this… It's better than you deserve. But you'll be gone. That's… That's enough." He leaned closer, so that he felt the other's final breaths. "And that flash drive…? It's long gone. Buried with my daughter. Nature's destroyed it years ago. And no one… No one saw the list entirely. No one knows all names."

Joseph emitted a strange, choked sound. Possibly a protest of some sort. Not that the content would've mattered a lot to Spencer. The mixture of rage and frustration in those eyes was far more than enough.

Spencer smirked, still aching horribly all over but at least able to breathe properly once more. "And you know what else?" He nodded towards the computer, feeling dizzy. "You just sent a warning to everyone on that list. Your people will never find them."

* * *

While Joseph exhaled for the last time before Spencer's very eyes thirty-two cell phones of former and still active agents bleeped all over the world, announcing a very urgent message. It only consisted of two words. To the recipients they were enough.

'_TRAP_ _WIRE_'

In Moscow Mariska Ivanov was just about to head towards bed when she received the warning. A shiver crossed her whole being. That particular cell phone wasn't supposed to be in use anymore. After casting a one more glance towards the bathroom's doorway she took a look at the message. Steel took over her eyes.

"_Mari?_" a very impatient female voice called out to her. "_Are you coming? They've been waiting for us for hours_."

She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. "_Give me a second_." She opened a hidden drawer, pulling out a small handgun. "_I'm almost ready_."

In Tokyo Kaito Takanawa was sitting in a buss, on his way to visit his parents, when he heard the sound he'd been dreading since he left Interpol behind. He swallowed and took a deep breath before receiving the confirmation. All color left his face when the truth sunk in.

For several long moments he sat absolutely still. Then, finally, he managed to compose himself enough to grab his other cell phone with a shaking hand. "_Mother? I… I'm sorry, but… I won't make it there today, after all._"

In Berlin Katharina Himmel and her husband Markus were stumbling their way back home from a night-club when she received the message.

Markus frowned. "_Is that… your work phone? Why do you have it along?_" As though he didn't have his, waiting for the Spider's call.

Katharina smiled in a way any woman in love would. "_I'm sorry._" One hand began to dance around his belt while the other reached out towards the covers of her black leather jacket. "_But maybe I can make up for it_…"

Markus chuckled huskily. His eyes were too blurred by lust and alcohol to detect the obvious threat. "_What are you doing to me?_"

Katharina's hand was wrapped around a slender, deathly sharp knife while the other caressed him. "_I'm taking you to heaven, love._" The blade was already sliding forward.

In Sydney, Australia, a emergency room nurse Lachlan Thomas was just preparing for a quick lunch with his girlfriend Isabella when he got his warning. His heart almost literally stopped as soon as he saw the words. After all the years of trying to leave that life behind…

His eyes were full of despair when he peered through the cafeteria. Isabella was sitting there at a small corner table, one of her hands rubbing her stomach as she waited. She was fifteen weeks pregnant. His child would never get to know him. The pain that thought caused was almost enough to stop him but he knew that he'd have to do this, for the sake of all three of them. And that's why by the time Isabella looked towards the direction where he'd just been he was already long gone.

A few days later Isabella would receive a long letter, and the only words in it she'd understand from her emotional turmoil would be '_I'm_ _sorry_'.

In Mexico City Rafael Ortiz was just cooking a dinner with his wife Sofia, while listening to their two sons playing nearby, when two cell phones that'd been abandoned for a long time bleeped. They both shivered, knowing what was going on even without looking. Their eyes were wild and full of fear as they met.

"_Is it time?_" Sofia inquired, just quietly enough to keep their children from hearing.

Rafael nodded sharply, his heart hammering. "_Pack up for the boys and get the guns. I'll make the calls_."

At a safe distance from Virginia Emily Prentiss took a deep breath while putting her cell phone away. She cast a quick, protective glance at a sleeping Henry, then turned her gaze towards the small one-room apartment's window. A dark look took over her eyes. "You'd better be alive when they find you, Spencer", she murmured.

* * *

Spencer breathed hard, his eyes not straying from Joseph's corpse for even a second. The monster remained dead. But it wasn't over yet.

As if to cement his thought Ian Hollard's voice sounded from the doorway. "Oh, Spencer… You do realize that you just made yourself useless to me with that little announcement, don't you?" The man's eyes were unreadable, devoid of all emotions. "I have no reason to keep you alive anymore." And with that the agent he used to worked with and looked up to, the man who taught him most of the field agent's skills that he knew, began to approach with a gun pulled at him.

Gritting his teeth, Spencer reached out towards his own gun.

A few moments later a gunshot echoed through the house where the false image of a happy family used to live, shattering the last bits of lingering illusion.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'm actually feeling a bit breathless here…! How about you guys?

Poor Reid! Let's hope that his nightmare is over. He sure is a fighter (who just saved over thirty lives, imagine that!) but how much more of this will he be able to take? Bell is dead. But what about Hollard…?

Sooooo… Good? Bad? Luke-warm? Do leave a note on the box if ya wanna let me know!

It's time to tune out, but only for now. Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll all join in for that one.

Take care!

* * *

**Sniper**: Thank gosh Henry's okay, no? We'll see what happens to Will. (sighs)

Hmm, I have a feeling that you're right about Lauren Reynolds… But we'll see for sure really soon. (grins)

Merci beaucoup for the review! I really hope that what's to come turns out worth the wait.

* * *

**Patricia**: I'm so, so happy to hear that you enjoyed it! (beams) Gosh, I really hope that you'll be as excited about what's to come.

Indeed! He's already been through so much. It'd be unfair if he lost the fight like this.

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	9. The Endgame

A/N: Weeell, it's Suday, isn't it? (grins) BUT, before getting to the actual business…

THANK YOU, a million times over, for all your reviews and affection for this story! They mean more than you could ever imagine. So THANK YOU! You're precious. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I know what you came here for… Let's get going! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

The Endgame

* * *

/ _After sharing their secrets Spencer and Anya found themselves growing closer and closer. They spent as much time together as they possibly could, both overjoyed that there was finally someone around them they could be fully honest with. Even more hidden things were revealed after the biggest one and two more months later they knew each other better than they knew themselves. It was dangerous and ridiculous. Risked everything they'd fought so hard for. But nonetheless it was only a matter of time before things would escalate further._

_And sure enough, one night the door of Spencer's room opened just when he was about to doze off. He turned his head and felt his eyes widening at what he discovered. "Anya?" What was she doing in his room in the middle of the night?_

_Anya swallowed hard. "The other nightshift nurse… He's asleep. We have a few moments." She focused on breathing for a couple of seconds. "I just… I need it to be someone that I love, for once."_

_As soon as those words sunk in properly there was nothing in the world that would've kept Spencer away from her. He couldn't exactly brag with his amount of experience but natural instincts seemed to be doing a fairly good job at leading him. It helped that his mind and body were so eager that it scared him a little._

_At first their motions were gentle, almost cautious, while they explored one another with their mouths and hands. Traced every scar, birth mark, curve and inch with a great deal of excitement. But soon the heat took over and they grew more forceful, almost desperate._

_Already then they both knew, deep down, that these nights would be numbered._

_They found each other's most delicate spots with a stunning amount of ease, like they'd known each other all their lives. Only the fact that they couldn't arouse any attention kept them from howling out of sheer pleasure when everything clicked together exactly as was meant to and they were sent hard to the peak of pleasure. In the end Anya's soft, shuddering gasp blended effortlessly to Spencer's small, muffled moan._

_They knew, all too well, that Anya should've left as quickly as possible. But against all reason they stole a few more minutes from fate. During those moments, with his whole body still pulsating in the aftermath, Spencer leaned closer to her ear and whispered the truest words he'd ever uttered. "I love you, too."_

_When Anya finally walked away sixty-eight seconds later Spencer pretended that he didn't notice how she wiped her eyes, just like he pretended that he didn't noticed the moisture clouding his own line of vision._

_Their secret meetings continued over the three months that followed. Anya came to him as often as she could. Sometimes, when it was a particularly bad day for both of them, they merely sat quietly, seeking comfort and strength from one another. Sometimes it was kisses and soft, whispered sweet promises. And other times the passion was simply too much to bear. Those particular nights made blindfolds fun for Spencer again._

_And then one cold, dark December night changed everything. Anya had seemed off for a few days, paler than usual and nauseous. When she sneaked into his room at one in the morning there was a mixture of terror and excitement on her face. Somehow the look spoke out her news long before her lips did. "I… Spence, I'm pregnant."_ /

* * *

The pain… It was unbelievable. Seemed to rush into every little bit of Spencer's body. He gasped and groaned, fighting furiously to regain some focus. To get a hold of himself. Along with the agony only one thing made sense.

His gun hadn't fired properly.

Ian chuckled. "Did you really think that we hadn't searched through every little bit of this house? That we hadn't expected you to lay traps? No, we didn't expect you to go that easy on us." The man kneeled beside where he'd fallen to his knees on the floor. "I kept the knowledge of this gun all to myself, though. Because I had a feeling that it might turn out useful." The unit chief nodded towards Joseph's dead body. "You see… Joseph there was starting to become a problem. Too brutal, too difficult to control. As much trouble as it will be to find someone to replace him his existence was a even bigger threat." Ian sighed. "I could've handled him myself, of course. But that might've included taking some unnecessary risks. So…" The man's eyes clashed with his. "I left the task to my best agent."

"You…", Spencer wheezed. Talking hurt even more than he'd expected. "You knew…"

Ian nodded. "I trained you. I left you with just one bullet because I knew that it'd be all you need to finish the job." Those eyes flickered towards the cuffs that trapped him what already felt like a lifetime ago. "I also knew that you'd have no trouble with breaking yourself free. All I had to do was send Joseph to you and he was more than eager."

Spencer groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He honestly didn't know what hurt the most. All the nightmares being brought back to life, Ian's betrayal or the bullet wound.

"You shouldn't fight it", Ian adviced. "The longer you stall the inevitable the more it'll hurt. Just let go."

The thought was far more tempting than it should've been. But Spencer knew that he couldn't give in, not yet. He wasn't finished.

The hole right above his stomach area, however, seemed to disagree.

Spencer didn't like the way his strangled breath sounded and felt. The pain it brought was so intense that for a few moments he saw stars. "I'm… I'm not alone in this", he managed. "The others… They'll stop you."

Ian snorted. "Stop me? Oh, Spencer… They don't even know my real part in all this."

For a moment, just a moment, Spencer's eyes flashed. Maybe it was his last moment of lucidity on Earth. "Are you sure?"

Ian's eyes narrowed while Spencer's words began to register. "What do you mean?" When he refused to answer the look on the man's face grew even more dangerous. "Explain… and I may be kind enough to end your miserable life quickly."

Spencer counted time, evaluated the best course of action. Focused on anything but the pain pulsating everywhere inside him. He couldn't tell if the look on his face was closer to a grimace or a smile. "Joseph… was sloppy", he rasped, one of his hands twitching half convulsively towards his coat that'd been thrown unceremoniously to the room's corner. He hoped that it was enough of a clue.

It was. Ian frowned and, after making sure that there was no way Spencer would be able to budge from where he'd slumped, marched his way to the coat and searched through it roughly. The change in the man's expression would've amused Spencer under any other circumstances.

There, in Ian's hold, was a very much active cell phone. It'd been set to activate at the same time the warning was sent to agents all over the world. There, in the covers of his pocket, it made a one more phone call and a recording began.

Ian, of course, understood perfectly what was going on. Fury flamed in the older man's eyes when they clashed with his. "You think you're so clever, don't you?"

Spencer smirked although with each and every passing second he could feel life draining out of him. "Your… Your name… is Ian Hollard. The Spider", he rasped with what was dangerously close to the last of his breath. It was the final seal to the identification. "And now… Now _you_ run."

For a few moments Ian stared at him with eyes that might've scared him if he'd had even a little bit more left to lose. Then the unit chief lifted his gun once more. Aimed, and fired.

* * *

Derek could quite easily count exactly how many times they'd almost lost Spencer. But somehow, miraculously, the genius always fought his way back to them. Back to life.

As the car Aaron was driving sped towards Joseph and Anya's former house he could only pray that their youngest would keep hanging on, one more time.

_We're coming_, his mind sent out. Like there'd been any actual hope that Spencer might hear. _We're right here and we're coming, so you'd better hang on tight._

Aaron took a turn that was nothing short of hazardous but none of the passengers complained. They were running out of time, Spencer was running out of time. They could afford to break a couple of traffic rules.

It seemed to take ages although the actual passed time couldn't be longer than fifteen minutes. The house that towered before them was dark and clearly abandoned. It was very easy to believe that it was haunted.

Derek took a deep breath, then jumped out of the vehicle as fast as he possibly could. Fully ready to barge in. To do pretty much anything. Only to find a single sound halting his steps violently.

A gunshot from the house pierced the eerie quiet.

* * *

Emily, who was usually in a stone hard control over herself, nearly dropped her cell phone when a gunshot sealed the conversation she'd been recording. Uninvited tears filled her eyes and a horrific taste filled her mouth while one of her hands flew to her lips. "Damnit, Spencer…!"

It took longer than it should've but eventually she found enough sense of mind to function. Her hands were far from steady while she typed a brief, hasty message. Her heart hammered as she sent the words and the recording to a carefully selected group.

'_New target_.'

The following moments, which were full of ache and regret, dragged on painfully slowly. Emily held her head in both of her hands, desperately trying to get herself back into control. To tell herself that she'd done everything she could. That she did what Spencer begged of her. Nothing more, nothing less.

She _should've_ done more.

Emily shivered when the cell phone came to life all of a sudden. She inhaled a deep breath, then took the item. During those motions the device gave six more signs of life. The messages came raining in at a breathtaking speed. More of them than she could keep track of.

Each of them was a picture of a spider, a confirmation of a accepted mission.

Emily grinned icily, feeling a brief brush of sick satisfaction in the middle of grief and agony. Good. With how many guns there were trained on him Ian wouldn't live long.

Emily wiped her eyes although more moisture appeared instantly, then switched off the cell phone that announced twenty-two new messages. As soon as she had she dropped it to the floor and crushed it with her heel, making sure to destroy the SIM-card. She'd be damned if she let Ian's men track down her or any of her new allies.

The Spider's Web would go down for Spencer, she'd make sure of that.

There, much too quickly, it was all done. With her heart tearing apart and thudding in her chest she made sure that Henry was still fast asleep, then rushed to the apartment's tiny bathroom and locked the door. Finally giving herself the chance to break down a little.

* * *

Chief Lincoln Rhyes was expecting a lot of things when he approached Joseph Bell's house with some of his best men, his heart fluttering and dancing with excitement. He expected it to be the high point of his career. His ticket to glory.

Well, he didn't expect that the FBI had gotten there first. He growled, his jawline tightening. "Never mind the feds", he adviced his men. "They have no business working on this case, anyway. Let's just nail the arrest and get this over with."

Upon walking into the building with his gun held high, his steps full of certainty and determination, Lincoln was too hasty to miss the obvious threat. He jumped a step backwards at the sight of a gun pointed at him. "Christ…!"

Aaron Hotchner lowered his gun, albeit suspiciously reluctantly. "I could've shot you", the unit chief, who seemed tense and pained, snarled. "What are you doing here?"

Lincoln gave the taller man his most authoritative look. "_I_ am here to arrest a murderer. Your team, on the other hand, has no business setting a foot here. So beat it. _Now_."

David Rossi also came to view, holstering his gun with a badly shaking hand. The agent's eyes seemed suspiciously red and puffy. "He's in the bedroom. Both of them are", the older man snarked. "Go on, arrest him all you like."

At the moment Lincoln's mind was too busy with other matters for alarm bells to go off. So he advanced, ordering a couple of his men to keep an eye on the agents while the rest followed him. His steps were nothing short of confident until he reached the bedroom's doorway and froze.

There on the floor lay Spencer Reid, his face badly bruised and a heavily bleeding gunshot wound right above his abdomen. Derek Morgan was doing whatever he could to help his teammate but didn't seem to be getting a lot results. Not far away lay a cell phone that'd been pierced by a bullet. And also not far was Joseph Bell, killed by a single gunshot but otherwise unharmed.

"I… I tried", Spencer rasped although talking sounded painful. The man swallowed loudly, his eyelids fluttering. "For Diane and Anya… Everyone…"

Derek's voice was more than a little choked while the agent kept applying pressure, futilely attempting to slow down the steady, merciless flow of blood. "We know, Reid. We know. About… About Anya. And your daughter."

Lincoln's eyes widened when pieces began to slide together. While understanding started to sink in, slowly yet surely. The entire sick nightmare was finally clearing out.

The baby that was murdered in this very room… Spencer's true relationship with Anya… Bell's true nature…

Quite a web, he had unfolding in front of him.

"We know", Derek repeated in what wasn't much more than a whisper. Far from enough to reach the younger man's rapidly fading mind. "And I… I'm sorry. So sorry. But Bell… He's dead. See? You did it." The mocha skinned man attempted to smile but it didn't come out right. "You did it, Reid. It's over."

Spencer shook his head. Fought against the darkness that was pulling him under with sheer willpower. The man's barely open, hazy and pained eyes were full of such despair that didn't seem to belong to this world. "… not yet …", was all that carried to Lincoln's ears. It sounded far more like a prayer than it should've.

Derek's eyes were far from dry while the agent continued his desperate efforts to save his friend. "Shh, it's okay. You'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry. Just… Just calm down and stay with me. You'll be just fine."

Spencer, however, kept struggling although the efforts seemed to be growing increasingly weak. For a moment the younger man's head lolled to side until he caught a hold of himself. Choked out a one more word. "… Hollard …"

Lincoln's heart stopped for a couple of seconds. He'd already screwed up once when listening to Joseph Bell's sob story and sending all forces after an innocent man. If it'd be revealed that a apparently dirty CIA unit chief had fooled him as well…

Derek, of course, couldn't understand his friend's warning. A frown appeared to the man's face. "Who's Hollard?" When there was no response a desperate, blood stained hand tapped the barely conscious agent's cheek. "Reid, stay with me! Who's Hollard?"

But Spencer had reached the limit of his strength right there. There was a one more, moan mixed gasp. And then, with more than a little apology in his eyes, the agent who'd fought all alone for a long time finally gave in and slipped under.

Terror rose in the room's already heavy air. "Reid?" Derek's call received no response. The older man's eyes were wide and unnaturally bright with nearly overflowing tears. "Spencer! Don't you dare do this to me… Eyes open! Stay with me!"

But Spencer wasn't listening.

Lincoln approached a step. The floor creaked underneath him, announcing his arrival, and instantly Derek's eyes swept towards him. For a while he feared for his life. "What the hell are you doing here?" the agent growled. "You have no right to come near him!"

Lincoln considered taking a one more step forward. In the end he decided againt it. "I know that he's innocent. I know." He glanced towards the bleeding man. "If there's something…"

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

There was no telling what might've happened if Aaron and David hadn't barged into the room just then, almost right alongside with approaching sirens. "We secured the house. It's safe for them to come in." The unit chief's gaze then fell on Spencer's unresponsive form. It was impossible to name all the emotions dancing in the man's eyes. "How is he?"

Derek swallowed hard. The man's hands were shaking while still struggling to stem the seemingly unstoppable stream of blood. "Hanging on."

All of a sudden Lincoln found himself facing a lot of heated, unwanted attention. David's left eyebrow twitched hazardously. "Still here?"

Lincoln shrugged. "This is my case. Where else would I be?"

Aaron's eyes were nothing short of murderous when they glared at him. "You… You came here to boost your career." Aaron hissed those words through gritted teeth. "Well… I'm going to make sure that your career will never, ever recover from this."

Lincoln felt a sharp slash of ache, somewhere deep inside. He lifted his chin a little, his eyes narrowing. "I was only doing my job, agent Hotchner. Nothing more, nothing less."

He might've very well ended up being attacked physically. But, by some twist of fickle fate, it was Spencer who saved him. Because while the sounds of paramedics rushing through the house echoed Derek's sharp cry froze everything in the room. "He stopped breathing!"

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Gosh…! I've gotta admit that I'm feeling just a bit breathless in the aftermath of this. Poor Reid! Poor… entire team, really, and Prentiss! We'll see how things move on from here…

Soooo…. Thoughts? Comments? Do let me know! There's a lil' box down below for all possible rants…

I've reeeeeally gotta dash on. Until next time, ya all! I really hope that I'll see you then.

Take care!

* * *

**Sniper**: Let's hope that Spencer makes it through this! And that his team makes it there QUICKLY.

I REALLY hope that what's to come turns out worth the waiting!

Merci beaucoup for the review!

* * *

**Patricia**: I've gotta admit that I'm quite happy to hear the chapter moved you so. (beams) But gosh, Reid sure is a real hero, isn't he? Let's hope that he'll manage to save himself now that he saved all those others.

Awww, happy belated birthday! I'm glad that I was able to give a present that pleased you. (grins)

HUGE thank yous for the review!

* * *

**Guest**: GOSH! You can't even imagine how happy you just made me. I REALLY hope that what's to come will please you as much.

Monumental thank yous for the review!


	10. The End of One War

A/N: GAH! Just a little past too late (it's nearing half past midnight) I'm FINALLY updating. BUT, before moving along with the story…

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your reviews and love for this story! It baffles me how many friends this one's gotten. (HUGS) You sure know how to make an author happy.

Awkay… Because stalling isn't kind, let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

WARNING: This chapter contains quite a bit of flashbacks… Well, most of the chapter is a flashback. I hope you don't mind…?

* * *

The End of One War

* * *

/ _After Anya announced that she was pregnant it took infuriatingly long before Spencer got to talk to her properly again, without having to worry about unwanted eyes and ears catching them. He hadn't been sleeping so his head turned instantly when the room's door opened in the soundless way he'd learned to associate with her. Rather than actually seeing her he sensed her moving in the shadows. He pushed himself up the exact second she sat to his bedside, bringing their lips mere millimetres apart. She closed the distance without a hint of hesitation, sealing them into a long and savouring, bittersweet kiss._

_"Hey", he breathed once they were forced to break the contact, licking his lips._

_Anya shifted closer to him and he couldn't bring himself to deny her silent request. She melted against him when he wrapped his arms around her, taking a tight hold on his shirt. And there, between them, he could feel the slight swell on her previously slender frame, hinting where their child was growing._

_"Hey", she whispered back after a long moment of them just enjoying the closeness. She licked her lips as well. "I… was able to steal us fifteen minutes."_

_Spencer's heart thudded, with both elation and frustration. How long was it going to be like this? Nothing but stolen moments here and there? Secret kisses? Two hearts yearning?_

_Spencer pressed his hand against her stomach. For a while he was almost sure that he felt their baby although it was much too early. This… This was theirs. Their little family. Their future. Despite all the dark clouds and shadows haunting them he allowed his heart to fill with hope and dreams. At least for a stolen moment. It was deviously easy when he was allowed to hold his whole world in his arms. "When this is over, with Bell's web destroyed… I'll marry you", he murmured, like trusting her with a great secret. "I'll buy you a ring and take you far away from this. Both of you. We'll have a forever of nights like this."_

_Anya was quiet for a moment. Then chuckled. "And you're just assuming that I'll say 'yes'? Quite egotistical of you, doctor."_

_For a moment genuine panic squeezed Spencer's chest and he searched her face, looking for signs of whether she was serious or not._

_Clearly sensing his distress Anya smiled, took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Of course I'll say 'yes', silly. Who wouldn't?" she murmured, planting a kiss to his forehead. Giving an official mark of her promise. "A forever with you… I like the sound of that."_

_They sealed it with a long, lingering kiss. Knowing all too well that for now the feel and memory of it was the only kind of a engagement ring they could have. Which didn't make the vows any less real._ /

* * *

Chief Lincoln Rhyes was in a desperate need of a drink while sat in his office, his face buried into his hands. He knew that outside the door reporters were waiting for news on the capture of Dr. Joseph Bell and his family's killer. What they didn't know about was the recording the man sitting on the other side of the table just played for him.

"_I took this one from Anya's dead fingers_." Joseph Bell's words echoed in the room, loud and clear. "_Imagine what I'd be able to do for the second one_."

"… _name is Ian Hollard… The Spider_ …" Spencer's voice was faint, barely audible. But still more than enough to seal the identification. To bring a nightmare into what was supposed to be Lincoln's day of glory.

"How do I know that it wasn't tampered with?" he attempted and it sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

"I'm not going to even dignify that with an answer", Aaron Hotchner snarled back at him. Sounding like a wild animal that was ready to attack. "He's… He's been fighting for his life all this time. You owe him more than that."

Lincoln sighed exhaustedly. He was too tired for this. "What do you expect me to do?"

Aaron's eyes were harder than stone. "I'm expecting you to face the consequences of your actions. I'm expecting you to finally do the right thing."

Lincoln's jaw tightened. A one more sign of foolish defiance. "And what use, exactly, would that be now?"

For a long moment Aaron seemed fully ready to punch him. The man's eyes were nothing short of dangerous. "A good man… A good man is in a hospital. A man who just today did a thousand times more than you ever will. And we don't know if…" The agent swallowed hard and for a fleeting moment there was moisture in his eyes. "The least he deserves is to have his reputation cleared."

Lincoln's mouth opened but in the end he didn't speak. Didn't know what to say. He licked his lips instead.

Aaron seemed to appreciate his silence. "You have two options. Either you talk to the reporters, or I will." With that the unit chief stalked off, leaving behind the weight of his words and sorrow.

Lincoln stared at his badge, lay abandoned on the desk. Then thought about the recording. And finally made his decision.

He emerged from the room and faced the reporters.

* * *

/ _From the beginning it was clear that Spencer was going to miss out on a lot when it came to Anya's pregnancy and the beginning of their child's life. Joseph wasn't anywhere near caught, which meant that their game of pretend couldn't end. And so he watched helplessly how Anya's baby bump grew, slowly yet subtly, signaling how their child was growing inside her._

_Anya, of course, saw his anguish although he never vocalized it. One day, carefully making sure that no one else saw, she slipped him something. Spencer's heart began to sing and broke a little at the same time when he realized that it was a sonogram picture._

_"I wanted to give you something to hang on to. Hide it well", Anya whispered. So quietly and subtly that it could've been a trick of imagination. "It's a girl."_

_It was the first time in months Spencer slept dreamlessly through the night._

_Anya's maternity leave was pure torture for him, since she couldn't visit him anymore without arousing dangerous suspicions. Not seeing her nearly drove him mad. And then, inevitably, came the day when their daughter was born._

_Spencer found out about it half accidentally, overhearing two nurses whispering how Joseph had rushed from the hospital at the word of his wife having gone into a labor. Even the thought of the monster being there, watching his daughter being born while he was locked up into a psychiatric hospital, was excruciating on the undercover agent. Nothing else, however, overcame the turmoil of worry, elation and anxiety that caught a grip of him._

_He was going to be a father!_

_Unsurprisingly Spencer didn't sleep that night. He merely paced like a caged tiger, his heart jumping madly in his chest and muttering to himself. If the staff had any doubts over whether he was really mentally ill they were convinced by those twenty-one hours and eighteen minutes._

_The following evening Spencer finally found out that all had gone well. He saw one nurse taking an envelope to the staff's break room. The words on it made his chest shift unhealthily._

'For Anya and Joseph's baby girl Diane.'

_It was the first time in ages he cried, silent and secret tears of pure, uncontrollable joy rolling in the safety of his room._ /

* * *

The mood in the hospital's waiting room was nothing short of dark. Penelope had all but slumped to a chair, hugging herself tightly and trembling to the very core of her being. Unable to even cry. Alex was sitting nearby, her face buried into both hands. Aaron, who returned from his mysterious miniature trip only recently, stood before a window with David, almost identical grim expressions on their faces. They'd already faced too many losses, both of them.

Derek paced, because it was all he could do. He didn't even notice Spencer's blood, which still covered his hands and clothes. Nor did he notice the fact that he hadn't stopped shivering or feeling cold since he first lay his eyes on Spencer's injured form.

He hadn't told the others that on the way to the hospital Spencer coded twice. And before the first one he could've sworn that he heard the genius mutter a name. Diane. He hadn't told them how happy the younger agent looked at that moment because he preferred not thinking about it.

They _weren't_ losing Spencer.

They all turned towards the door and those who'd been sitting down bounced up when steps approached the room. It wasn't Spencer's doctor. Instead Emily Prentiss stood by the doorway, appearing very familiar and like a perfect stranger at the same time with her shortcut, blonde dyed hair and haunted eyes.

The thunder of welcomes and greetings was instant. They were all eager to get at least some good news. "Hey", Emily half sighed. "I just left Henry to JJ. Will's waking up and she made us swear that we'll let her know as soon as we hear anything about Reid."

Penelope smiled, wiping her eyes. "I knew that you had a part in this. Lauren Reynolds."

Emily gave a fleeting, tight smile, although it died quickly. "So? Have you heard anything?"

Derek shook his head sharply. "What about you? Is Reid finally safe?" To him the question of whether Spencer would pull through didn't exist.

"I'm sorry." Emily's eyes grew very torn and serious. "Hollard… He's still missing. And as long as he remains that way… There's no safety for Reid. Or anyone close to him."

A ice cold breath of air swept through the room. They all shuddered, subconsciously huddling just a little closer to each other for comfort that just wasn't there. "So…", David said slowly, clearly hating even the thought. "No matter how this turns out…" The rest was left hanging. Still they all knew, entirely too well.

Whatever would happen over the approaching hours and days, they'd lose Spencer. The genius would be torn away from them once more by the monsters of past. The only, horrible question was whether it'd be permanent or not.

* * *

/ _Anya couldn't exactly bring Diane to the hospital and she was on a maternity leave herself. Which meant that Spencer didn't get the chance to see their daughter. Not until she was two months old, that was._

_Joseph had, all of a sudden, announced that he'd be away in a conference for a few days. Which meant that the Spider's web was at work once more. Suspicious and furiously determined, Spencer made his way to his room's window that opened a view to the hospital's front yard. What he saw there made him lose his breath._

_Anya had, apparently, appeared to take her so-called husband home. And she wasn't alone. Their daughter was in her arms, sleeping soundly. Despite the distance between them Spencer drank in the view greedily, like it'd been his lifeline. A ragged gasp left him._

_Their perfect baby girl was definitely the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen._

_When Anya looked up towards his window, with a small and very sad smile on her face, Spencer finally knew. This was the only way she could think of to give him the chance to see their child. For the last time, for now._

_Spencer swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. His eyes weren't exactly dry while he inhaled a shuddering breath. 'Thank you', he mouthed although he knew that Anya wouldn't be able to see it for having to focus on Joseph._

_He remained by the window for a long time after the pretend-couple had disappeared with his daughter, his hand trembling where he'd pressed it against the window glass._

Soon, _he soothed himself._ Don't worry. You'll be home with them soon. /

* * *

In a operating theater a quite large group of skilled professionals was fighting to save Spencer.

During her long career Dr. Amelia Song had faced a lot of patients in a horrible condition. When Spencer Reid was wheeled in, already just about gone from blood loss and his injuries, she was almost ready to declare him DOA. Almost.

He was far too young and had clearly been through far too much for her to allow him or herself to just give up.

And so she fought. Although she seemed to be doing a fool's job. Because his vitals refused to stop crashing.

"C'mon, kid…", she murmured, never even realizing that she was talking out loud. "You've made it this far. Don't you dare throw in the towel now.

Or maybe Spencer felt that he'd been fighting long enough.

Because despite Dr. Song's best attempts the lines monitoring Spencer's vitals first went ballistic, then began to crumble. Like the very life had been leaving him. And a single tear slid down his cheek.

* * *

/ _Diane was four months old when hell came on Earth for Spencer._

_He was making one of his usual strolls around the ward, trying to pinpoint any sign of where Joseph had been all day, when he heard two nurses talking in a breakroom that had its door slightly ajar. "… not like Anya. She was supposed to be here half an hour ago for the party…"_

_"You know those two", another female voice chuckled good naturedly. "When they go at it… Well, it's business. Besides, if I had a husband that looks like Bell I wouldn't bother with Christmas parties, either."_

_Spencer didn't know what it was that caught a hold of him. But all of a sudden absolutely everything inside him froze from sheer shock. He'd never felt quite as cold in his life._

_It was time to move, his cover be damned._

_Breaking free from the hospital wasn't much of a challenge with his training and determination. Getting a gun into his hands also didn't take a lot of effort with the connections he had. As soon as he'd accomplished those Spencer hurried, as fast as he possibly could._

_The second he saw how dark Anya and Joseph's house was he knew that he was too late, and already there a tiny piece of his heart died._

_Spencer's feet were heavier than lead when he made his way through the shadows and slipped into the house, silently and subtly as a ghost. Prepared for anything. Anything but what was waiting for him._

_The whole space he entered was a mess. A massive collection of items was smashed on the floor and even quite a bit of furniture had been damaged. And there, in the middle of it all, lay Anya in a pool of blood. Unmoving. Not breathing. With a horrific gash on her neck._

_The world spun before Spencer's rapidly blurring eyes and he stumbled, eventually crashlanding to his knees beside her. Although he knew that it was pointless he reached out a badly trembling hand towards her neck, careful not to touch the injury. The skin he met was still painfully warm but there wasn't even the slightest thud of life. And the amount of blood all around them screamed out that there never would be._

_He was just a little late, possibly mere minutes._

_Everything inside Spencer was shaking and falling apart as he stared at her, futilely trying to will himself into waking up from the nightmare. It didn't help. Anya remained lifeless. The blood didn't disappear._

_There was a painful, wheezing sound and it took long before Spencer realized that it came from him. He brushed her face, one last time, leaving a red stain on her pale skin. He couldn't bring himself to touch her lips that were already turning blue. "I'm sorry", he gasped, sounding like someone who'd been strangled. "I… I'm so sorry."_

_Spencer didn't know what he would've done if a new voice hadn't interrupted him. A baby was crying upstairs. It took only a flash before understanding dawned._

_It was the first time he ever heard his daughter._

_And then, as suddenly as he became aware of it, the sound was gone. Completely. The pieces of Spencer's heart jumped painfully as he pushed himself into motion, running desperately once more. Only to find that, again, he was late._

_Joseph Bell stood there, in the middle of the room, obviously waiting for him. And there, in the crib, lay his daughter. Just as quiet and lifeless as her mother. It took absolutely all Spencer had not to crumble to the floor while the tidal wave of sheer agony crashed into him. Only shock kept the tears that desperately wanted to crawl from falling._

_"You took longer than I expected. I was starting to worry that the police or one of those hens from the hospital would get here first to see my parting gift." Joseph's eyes flashed. "Anya hid her tracks well, I'll give her that. And she was busy, too, if the results of the paternity test I issued are anything to go by", the criminal sighed almost conversationally. "I'd go even as far as saying that I was surprised when a Interpol agent we caught a couple of months ago screamed out her name." The murderer wrinkled his nose. "She was an error of judgement from my part. One which I don't care to repeat."_

_Spencer could barely breathe. The overwhelming mixture of grief and rage… "You… You killed…" He didn't even have the words to voice what he'd lost._

_Joseph shrugged. "It wasn't my family, Spencer." The monster smirked at the brief flash of shock on his face. "An associate of mine informed me of your true identity almost as soon as you arrived. Which is why it wasn't that hard to figure out Diane's real father. The only reason you're still alive is that I found you amusing." Something that under different circumstances might've been terrifying appeared to the man's eyes. "Now I have what I want and I've had enough of you, though. Just like I had enough of your little family."_

_Spencer's control slipped, right there. He charged forward, with the force of his entire willpower and with the depth of his emotions. They collided with all there was in them. Fists and legs flew, damaging skin, soft tissue and even bone. But there was no amount of pain in the world that would've made Spencer stop._

_Until the sudden sound of a gunshot._

_Considering the state of Spencer's mind it wasn't that much of a miracle that he hadn't noticed the gun being drawn. The bullet that hit his chest, entirely too close to his heart, didn't really hurt at the moment. Perhaps his mind simply wasn't able to comprehend any more pain._

_Joseph smirked icily. "Nighty night, Spencey. Tell Anya I said 'hi'."_

_Spencer knew that his body wouldn't be able to hang on much longer. There, with what was definitely the last of his strength, he pulled his own gun and fired thrice. He didn't care where the bullets went. The sight of the stun on Joseph's face and the man falling down were enough. Seeing the monster, the Spider, go down he knew that he could finally let go._

_Spencer didn't have the strength or will to remain upright anymore. With a one more painful breath he slumped to the floor, the impact stealing the last of whatever air there was in his lungs. Finally, finally the tears came as he lay on the floor, certain that they were the last minutes of his life. And for a moment could've sworn that he saw Anya there, smiling down at him. "Shh… It'll be alright. Just let go."_

_Spencer blinked once more, feeling even colder than before when the illusion faded away. Anya was stolen from him. Again._

_His eyes fluttered closed and he let himself go under, unaware of the fact that paramedics were about to barge in only minutes later._ /

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Awkay, that was quite sad… (wipes eyes) So… Is Reid going to die? Or will he live for his team and Henry? And what about Hollard?

It's your turn to say your word, folks! Soooo, how was it? Any good at all? Please, do let me know!

I've really gotta go because I'm basically swaying on my chair. Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll all be there.

Take care!

* * *

**Essence**: Gosh, let's hope that he won't! It'd be a bit too cruel of an ending. (winces) 'Hope you'll enjoy the next one as well!

Huge thank yous for the review!

* * *

**Patricia**: Indeed! (shudders) Let's hope that he won't end up for succeeding with his life. I REALLY hope that what comes will be as captivating to you.

Massive thank yous for the review! Until next time.

* * *

**Sniper**: I couldn't agree more! (wipes eyes, just a little) It'd destroy the team AND poor little Henry if they lost him like this. And him dying without his name having been cleared… (winces)

I'm super happy to hear that you've enjoyed the bond Spencer still has with Anya and their daughter! There'll be quite a bit more of that particular journey in the next chapter…

I REALLY hope that the next chapter turns out worth the wait!

Merci BEAUCOUP for your review! Until next time.

* * *

**AZCatmom**: It'd certainly be fair, wouldn't it? (gulps and wipes eyes) Trust me, it's been my pleasure! This is the kind of Spencer Reid I believe in. I'm insanely happy to hear that you've enjoyed the portrayal! (BEAMS)

Colossal thank yous for the review! Until next time.


	11. Somewhere to Go

A/N: Typing this chapter was… a bizarre experience. At first I wondered 'How in the world is this going to shape together?' and then, wham, the pieces slid together. We'll see how you'll feel about what my head cooked up…

But first, of course… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your reviews and support! It baffles me how many of you have joined on board. (BEAMS, and hugs) You guys rock!

Awkay, because I have a feeling that you want to get on with the story… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Somewhere to Go

* * *

/ _The last time Spencer saw Anya was three weeks before her death. He couldn't help but stare, his heart jumping madly and his head full of disbelief, at the sight of her stood by his room's doorway. Dressed for work, just like when they first met._

_To think how many things had happened since…_

_Anya chuckled at his expression and closed the door upon entering. "You're not going to pass out on me, are you?" She did seem genuinely worried that he might. She gave him a moment before continuing. "It's the flue season and a lot of nurses are sick. They were short of staff and desperate, so I kindly offered to help despite being on a maternity leave, just for a day."_

_Spencer couldn't help the impossibly wide grin that appeared to his lips. "Convenient", was all he managed. Maybe words weren't even expected._

_They'd been apart for much too long. The need, the hunger… It was too much._

_Without wasting a single one of the entirely too few seconds they had they embraced, got lost into kisses that desperately attempted to express everything they were feeling. The worry. The longing. The grief. The regret of all the lost time. The love. The joy. The hope._

_But just kissing wasn't enough. Nothing was. Anya emitted a soft, appreciative moan when he led her gently yet determinedly to the bed, leaning over her. Never once did he let go of her, not even when they began to work on their pants. Their hands were trembling like they'd been doing it all for the very first time and the realization made them both giggle huskily._

_During the moments they had, right there, Spencer made Anya his in a way he never had before. And she, gasping and moaning under inexplainable surges, in return claimed a piece of him that'd be hers and hers alone until he'd inhale his last breath. They drank in each other, almost tried to merge into one another because nothing less seemed to do._

_As they lay in each other's arms in the aftermath of it all, sated and already yearning desperately at the same time, Anya leaned closer and gave him the kind of a kiss she'd never granted him before. "I love you. And soon, when this is all over, I'll be able to tell you so every day."_

_There was so much that Spencer would've wanted to say. '_Don't go, what are you planning, be careful, stay with me…_' But in the end he only found enough air for three words. "'Love you, too."_

_Then Anya was gone. As though she'd been nothing but a dream. And Spencer realized that he was crying although he couldn't yet fully understand why._ /

* * *

Fifteen days, six hours and fourteen minutes after Dr. Song appeared to tell that Spencer was alive, just barely, after trying to leave them several times, the young man hadn't showed any signs of waking up. The world knew the truth. And Ian Hollard was still on the loose.

Aaron, who'd been awake for forty-six hours, had his face buried into his hands while he sat in his office, trying to come up with something that would bring them a step closer to the end of the nightmare. For the about hundreth time that day he glanced towards his phone but Derek, whose turn it was to stay at the hospital with Spencer, still hadn't called or texted. No change, then.

Aaron tensed up and lifted his chin instantly when there was a knock and the room's door opened. In came a woman of his age with chin length, almost black hair and sharp blue eyes. He stiffened even further. "Who are you?" And what was she doing in his office?

"I'm section chief Donna Tyler, with the CIA", she introduced herself, a tight look on her face. Without waiting for a response she sat down and slid a file towards him. 'Spencer Reid' read on top of it. "I… know what's going on with him. And I felt that it's high time that you know."

Aaron frowned. Mistrust mixed with curiosity. "Know what?"

One corner of Donna's lips twitched but she didn't smile. "The real Spencer Reid. Because I doubt that he would've allowed you to see or been able to express the person he really is."

Aaron began to read although it felt like intruding on something that was none of his business. Although he hated himself for it, just a little. And quite soon wished that he hadn't.

There weren't detailed descriptions of Spencer Alexander Reid's cases with the CIA, of course. The young man was a member of a special-ops team that didn't officially exist, after all. But the mere number of cases was impressive, to say the least. It seemed that alongside being a genius the young man was a incredibly skilled sharp-shooter, a well trained martial arts expert and a tactical specialist. And, which was even more remarkable, a talented computer expert. Until that part of him was killed, at least momentarily, along with his family.

There was a psychiatrist's report on Spencer's state of mind, made shortly after… his first encounter with Joseph Bell. PTSD. Insomnia. Anger. Grief. Depression. Spencer wasn't able to eat or sleep. Much less hold a gun. And all of a sudden Aaron understood, much too clearly.

The agent that Jason Gideon introduced to the team… wasn't a rookie agent, unused to fieldwork and a little too naïve for his own good. Spencer was deeply traumatized. Being on field again… Firing a gun… Seeing the dead… Seeing all those monsters…

How Spencer managed to pull through… To face the line of duty again, with all the memories and nightmares haunting on his tails… It was beyond him.

Donna sighed. "I tried to stop him when I found out that he was planning on joining the FBI. But I wasn't able to notify anyone without revealing strictly confidential things." She looked towards the window, sadness in her eyes. "I… didn't know, about Anya."

Aaron swallowed, hard. "No one did", he suspected out loud. For all these years it'd been Spencer's cross alone to bear. He then looked at her with a frown. "I'm sorry if I sound rude, but… Why are you revealing all of this now?"

Donna smiled wryly. "Call it an olive branch if you will. Our agencies need each other to bring an end to this." She looked at him, suddenly a lot more serious. "Also… I need you to understand. Because when this is all over… He's going to need a lot of help and support. He, too, is going to need you to understand."

'_I knew you'd understand_', echoed somewhere in Aaron's memories. He focused on the woman, mainly to avoid showing emotions that he wasn't comfortable with sharing. He gulped against the bitter taste sitting on his tongue. "The last time… The last time I saw him he wasn't able to breathe on his own", he pointed out. He didn't mean to be cruel or emotionless. But he'd lost too many people to dare to have too much faith.

Donna's eyes softened. "That boy… He's a fighter. I knew it the moment I first lay my eyes on him. And… I've been keeping an eye on him. You people are his family. He won't leave you this easily."

Aaron hoped, from the bottom of whatever heart he still had left, that she was right.

* * *

/ _There was nothing, absolutely nothing, for Spencer to go back for. He lost Anya and Diane. And the monster that killed them… The Spider was dead. There was no one to go back for._

_But Spencer's body was resilient. Despite his injuries it kept hanging on, refused to let go even when his mind already had. He wasn't allowed to go yet._

_And so, inevitably, Spencer kept breathing and opened his bleary, haunted eyes to face the ceiling of a hospital's ICU._

_"Spencer?" Ian Hollard's voice sounded like it'd been far away. So did the noise from a chair being moved. He didn't quite have the strength to turn his head yet but he felt another person's presence approaching. "Are you awake?"_

_Spencer kept staring at the ceiling, unable to speak when breathing seemed to take all his little energy. All of a sudden he felt a hand on his and for a moment, just a moment, he was able to imagine that it was Anya's touch. The sweet illusion brought tears to his eyes although they didn't spill._

_"Are you in pain?" The hand disappeared and Ian's steps began to move towards what must've been the room's door. "I'll get a nurse. I'll be right back."_

_Spencer barely heard. He still didn't manage to move. All he could do was stare at the painfully white ceiling and remember._

_He was still alive. Still warm. Still breathing. Diane and Anya weren't._

_And if he could've he would've started to scream._ /

* * *

Spencer was floating. It was white and warm, his heart was full of the kind of peace he'd never felt before. But something was holding him back. Calling out to him.

"I… I know how much you've lost." That voice sounded familiar, somehow, as it echoed in the emptiness. It also sounded… broken, almost. Or perhaps static. It seemed to come from somewhere far away. "And… I'm so sorry, I really am. No one should have to go through that." There was a long pause and he almost let himself float again until the mysterious voice continued. "But… I need you to remember that we're still here, all of us. Waiting for you to come back." Something was pulling at him, tugging him. "And we're… We're not letting you go without a fight, do you hear me? We're not letting you get lost out there, wherever you are."

Spencer didn't quite know what she was talking about. Or maybe a tiny, distant and muted part of him did. Because he found himself anchoring, reaching out. Holding on, or perhaps holding back. Fumbling through the blinding white.

The thought of not being all alone, after all, was oddly comforting.

"Do you hear me, sweetie?" The hold, whether it was physical or not, grew stronger. Or maybe he was floating closer. It was all very confusing. "We're right here. And it'll be alright eventually, I promise. We're all here for you."

The white didn't let go entirely but it changed. Became a little less insistent. It swirled and swayed, as though he'd been incredibly dizzy, and wrapped around him like a blanket.

Pity, since floating around without a care in the world felt quite nice.

He kept floating because he didn't really have the strength and will to surface yet. It was like he'd been under water, impossibly deep. But finally it felt like he just might have something to go back to. Out there somewhere.

* * *

Penelope's heart was beating just a little too fast while she stared at Spencer's unconscious face. His eyes remained closed. But the pressure she just felt… She hadn't imagined it, couldn't have.

"Reid?"

There wasn't a new sign of awareness. But the nurse who'd been keeping an eye on the monitors that reported Spencer's condition gave her a small smile. "It's a good thing that you called me", the nurse reassured her, most likely noticing how close to tears she was. "He may not be ready to wake up yet, but… This is the most stable his vitals have been since he was brought in."

Penelope swallowed hard. She barely dared to believe the sense of hope that was rising within. "Do you… think he's coming back?"

"I don't want to give you any false hopes", the nurse replied cautiously. "But… Whatever it was that you said to him before calling me in… It helped. So keep talking to him. Make sure that he knows that there's something to fight his way through for."

Penelope didn't know what else to do so she did just that, for the following three hours.

* * *

/ _It took two full days before Spencer was finally able to speak again. And as soon as he was he announced to Ian, who'd barely left his side, that he wouldn't be a part of the CIA anymore. He had to give a reason, of course. He lied._

_It was painful that he couldn't tell anyone about Anya and Diane, that he wasn't even allowed to grieve properly._

_And he couldn't participate to their funeral. He heard that it was beautiful, though. That the mother and daughter had been buried side by side. Joseph's funeral would take place a little later._

_Spencer dug out the date. And he was there well before the funeral began, standing before the graves of his two precious people although his knees barely supported his weight. The agony blurred his eyes, made breathing nearly impossible._

_"I'm sorry, that I failed you", he whispered, the weight of the words, the world, pressing his shoulders. "I… I don't know why I'm still here, when you're not. But… I'll make it count. I promise." A couple of tears rolled to his cheeks, shining and stinging his skin in the winter air. "And maybe… Maybe I'll be able to make you proud of me, before I see you again."_

_For a few more seconds he let himself break down a little at the sight of his beloveds' names on stone. And then, making sure that no one was seeing, he searched through his pocket to find the flash drive he just got his hands on. It was the same flash drive Joseph took from Anya after her death, one of their most guarded secrets._

_One of the FBI agents who'd been investigating Joseph and Anya's house had found it, hidden to a impossible corner behind the crib. Joseph must've dropped it during their fight. The agent brought it to him to the hospital, stating that it must've been something important._

_'_To Spencer_', Anya had written on top of it._

_Upon leaving the agent paused by the doorway, turning towards him. "Based on the information I've received you put up one hell of a fight back there. And you've done a impressive job, bringing the Web down. If you're interested in starting again, one day… Come to the bureau and ask for Jason Gideon. And in case you're worried… No one else needs to know." With that the stranger left._

_Spencer swallowed, shaking himself free from the memory. It'd be the time to think about his future, soon. But now… Now he'd have to say goodbye to his whole life so far._

_His hands were shaking while they dug through the dirt, eventually reaching a deep enough spot. Spencer took a breath, then slipped in the flash drive and hid his tracks. He allowed himself to caress the ground that shielded Anya and their daughter._

_Then, using all his willpower and strength, he pushed himself up. Forced himself to walk away, to leave behind his all, with a single, broken whisper. "I'll see you later."_

_One day he'd be with them again. He wanted to believe so with all his heart. But now… Now was the time to keep an eye on their killer being lowered to the ground. It was all he could do for them anymore._ /

* * *

On the day of Spencer Reid's funeral a unwanted figure stood in the sidelines, observing the events unfolding. Taking in the looks on each grieving person's face. It was hard to tell from the pouring rain but it seemed that several of them were crying. Spencer's mother wasn't there, which didn't surprise the observer. A schizophrenic at the funeral of her son, a son that'd been killed as a result of government officials' failures, attending to a funeral with said government officials… Well, it wouldn't have been pretty.

Ashes to ash, dust to dust… The coffin was lowered to the cold, unfeeling ground. Trembling hands dropped flowers to the grave.

Ian Hollard sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. No, he most certainly wasn't feeling guilty. But he had to admit that Spencer's death was… regrettable. The young man had been an exceptional agent, equally full of rationality and heart. It was a rare combination.

Too bad that the genius entered a game that was far beyond even his understanding, that the web had already spread too far to be stopped.

When Penelope broke down to clearly visible sobs, bringing a hand to her lips while Derek wrapped an arm around her, Ian decided that he'd seen enough. He turned around and began to walk away, not casting a single glance over his shoulder. He had far too much to focus on to dwell on the past, no matter how hard he felt the touch of cold nostalgia.

He'd made it to a nearby street and was trying to catch himself a cab when all of a sudden someone bumped into him. There was a brief, barely traceable tap of ache that disappeared like it'd been nothing but a trick of his imagination. Perhaps it was. A hand touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry", a female voice apologized, sounding almost earnest.

Alarm bells were still going off in Ian's head. Doing so as subtly as he could he stole a glance towards his wrist and felt a tiny tremor of alert going through him. There was a small needle mark only a careful eye could've caught. What went inside?

He peered over his shoulder just in time to see the woman disappearing behind a corner. He knew that it was pointless to follow her, for she'd be long gone by the time he'd get there. But who was she? Did she want him dead?

He didn't have the time to process it properly. Because just then his cell phone went off. "_You'd better have good news for me_", he barked in French.

There was a loud gulp. "_I… I'm sorry, but…_" There was a pause, during which some incomprehensible sounds made their way to his ears. "_Charles, they're attacking. Yvés, Simone… They're dead._"

Ian gritted his teeth, hard. Ever since Spencer managed to send that warning his web, which he'd spent decades building, had been torn down, quickly and efficiently. He'd received a lot of phone calls similar to this one. There weren't many left anymore.

"_Charles…!_" the pitiable male voice pleaded. "_Please, help…!_" The prayer ended to a thunderstorm of gunshots. Soon there was nothing at all.

Ian closed his eyes for a moment, then put away the phone call. His jaw was painfully tight. Inconveniet, all of it. As he stood there in the street corner, Ian counted his options.

There was no going back to the façade of a life he built oh so painstakingly. He could allow everyone to imagine that he, too, had already perished. He could go after them, to demand what they'd just injected him with, but that'd be quite boring because they were expecting it. Besides, if it was lethal… Well, that'd certainly erase all his problems with choosing. Or then he could disappear and give those idiots the chase of their lives while he rebuilt his kingdom.

Ian smiled. A woman on the other side of the street returned it, imagining that it was for her. He'd always been good at running.

He disappeared like a ghost.

* * *

It was a bizarre coincidence, really, that Spencer finally decided to regain consciousness on the day of his fake funeral. It wasn't a small war. The cacophony of unnaturally loud sounding noises was maddening, especially with the headache he was sporting, and he would've screamed if he could've. He didn't know how long it took until he finally got his eyes open and he might've slipped back under a couple of times in the process. But in the end his eyelids parted slightly, allowing him to blink blearily at the uncomfortably white ceiling above him.

_What…?_

Spencer didn't know how long he stayed that way, just blinking and trying to wake up properly, until his return was finally discovered. Steps approached and for a while he stiffened, ignoring the shockwave of agony the simple action caused. He didn't manage to relax fully even when it turned out to be David looking back at him.

There were new lines on David's forehead and a load of worry in the man's eyes. The older agent looked like he hadn't slept properly in ages. "Reid?" The voice was mercifully quiet. "Can you hear me?"

For a long time the soft, barely audible "Yhm…" was the most intelligible Spencer could muster. He didn't dare to nod in fear that he wouldn't have the strength to lift his head back up. Feeling far sleepier than he should've he glanced towards David's black outfit and frowned, a chill going through him. "…'o died?" he croaked in a voice that sounded nothing like him.

David sighed loudly, sinking further to his chair. It took a couple of moments before the man finally spoke. "As far as the rest of the world aside our team knows… You did."

Those words triggered an agonizing flow of memories and Spencer leaned more heavily against his pillow, gasping. It was all coming back to him, slowly yet surely. Ian's betrayal… The torture… Triggering the trap against Joseph Bell… Joseph's death… Getting shot…

"Shh, shh… Reid, calm down. Calm down. It's alright." It wasn't until David spoke, holding him down gently, that Spencer realized that the horrible, wheezing sounds – stiffled screams – had been coming from him. "You… You'll be alright. But Hollard is still out there. So, to keep you safe we had to…" The rest faded away.

Spencer would've wanted to run a hand down his face, just to make sure that this wasn't all just a nigthmare, but his muscles weren't strong enough for such yet. So he could only lay there helplessly, his thought howling and spinning. " … the others? …" he demanded in the end, determined to focus on something else but imagining his own funeral.

"They're okay, all of them. Worried about you but fine and perfectly safe. Henry included." David paused while helping him find a more comfortable position. The senior agent's motions were stunningly tender, almost paternal. "Oh, and JJ's been wanting to tell you… Will's going to be alright. He'll be discharged soon."

Spencer savoured the flood of relief, basked in the warmth it provided him. That was until a thought crossed his mind. He shivered. "Mom…?" If she thought that he was dead, too…

"She knows, don't worry. Prentiss sent her a word." David stiffled a yawn. "The hospital staff imagines that she's in denial. She's quite happy that way." There was a long moment of hesitation. "But… We couldn't get a hold of your father."

Spencer felt a stab of ache that had nothing to do with his injuries. Sure, they'd never been in the best of terms, but… He fidgeted, frustrated over how difficult the drugs were making processing everything properly.

"Reid." He didn't realize how close he'd been to falling asleep until David whispered. For a second, just a fleeting moment, the man's eyes appeared moist. "I… I'm glad that you came back." The agent's lips opened twice until just two words came out. "Thank you."

Spencer nodded, not fully sure what he was expected to say or do. He blinked once, surprised, upon feeling his hand being squeezed lightly. He would've wanted to have the energy to return David's gesture.

A rather comfortable, thoughtful silence lingered in the room while they both tried to make sense of their thoughts. Of… well, everything. In the end Spencer managed to crane his neck just enough to look at his friend properly. "How long… 'til they transfer me?" In a different situation he would've been overjoyed about his voice starting to recover. As it was a weight lingered in the pit of his stomach. He knew that he wasn't safe, and that his family wasn't either, for as long as he remained nearby. Until now he'd been too fragile to be moved. But now that he was awake…

A dark look, a mixture of remorse, anger and frusration, appeared to David's eyes. It took a while before the man spoke. "Well… It won't be today." A thumb caressed the back of his hand briefly. "Now sleep. I'll keep watch."

Spencer wanted to argue, to point out that David needed rest just as badly. But he was much too exhausted and before the thought was finished his eyes were closed. He went under already preparing himself for a new war.

Spencer's hand never stopped squeezing David's determinedly. It managed to bring tears to the older man's eyes. He didn't let go, either.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: That… was quite emotional. (takes a deep breath) BUT, the real question goes… Was that any good in your book?

It's time to speak your minds!

I've gotta got going now. Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll all stop by then. We're fast approaching the end of this story, after all.

Take care!

* * *

**Patricia**: It was definitely quite sad. (sighs) BUT, I'm thrilled to hear that you'll find it captivating anyway!

Poor Spencer's been through entirely too much already. Let's hope that he'll pull a one more miracle, for the sake of his team if nothing else. (sighs)

Colossal thank yous for the review! I really hope that you'll find the next one just as captivating.

* * *

**Sniper**: GOSH! I'm so, so thrilled to hear that you found the chapter so enthralling. (BEAMS)

I've gotta admit that those bits were my favorites, too. (grins) That idiot cop sure deserved the 'Hotchner special'.

Now let's just hope that Reid will make it back to his family once more…

Merci BEAUCOUP for your amazing review! I really hope that you'll keep enjoying the ride.


	12. Hello, Goodbye

A/N: Yup, it's time for the Sunday special. BUT, first of course…

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your amazing reviews and support. It continues to baffle me how many friends this tale has received! BAMF!Reid is a MASSIVE obsession for me so I'm beyond thrilled that there are so many of you who feel the same way. (BEAMS)

Awkay, because stalling is never kind… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: The lyrics before and after this chapter are from 'The River' by Good Charlotte. Me no own! I just felt that they fit this story chillingly well.

* * *

/ _I've seen enough now to know that beautiful things_

_Don't always stay that way_

_I've done enough now to know this beautiful place_

_Isn't everything they say_

_I heard that evil comes disguised_

_Like the city of angels_

_I'm walking towards the light_ /

(Good Charlotte: 'The River')

* * *

Hello, Goodbye

* * *

It took nine long, tense weeks before Spencer's condition was finally stable enough for him to be moved elsewhere. For him to be able to stand on his own two feet. It only made matters worse that the team was barely allowed to see him. It would've been too dangerous, might've led unwanted attention to him. It was wrenching to wait for the inevitable, hopefully temporary goodbye.

They all knew that the time had come when CIA's section chief Donna Tyler sent them a message that said '_I_ _need your help with a case_'. And she did. It was a case of an agent having been murdered. But the real reason she called them over was waiting for the excited, worried, saddened and frustrated group in what must've been the most carefully hidden evidence room of the CIA's compound.

"I was able to smuggle him here with a couple of agents I know I can count on", chief Tyler explained while opening the door. "This is the only place where you can do this without arousing suspicion."

"Do what?" And then Derek caught on. "To say…?" He couldn't voice the final word.

Just then the heavy door opened. Donna sighed and nodded, giving the entire BAU-family a sad look. "I caused a technical malfunction to make sure that the security cameras are out of comission. But I could only buy you so long." With that she left to give them privacy.

Spencer was really there. Standing, albeit not exactly steadily, next to a hastily prepared bed. Appearing so very nervous and sorry that it was heartbreaking. Like the whole horrifying situation would've been his fault. The team was just happy to see him alive and mobile.

They stared at each other and all of a sudden none of them knew what to say. What words would've even done the situation any justice? There was a chance that this would be the last time they'd ever see each other.

In the end Spencer was the one to break the silence. "Could, uh… Could at least one of you look like you're going to see me again?"

That was all it took. Before anyone got the chance to stop her, or to at least remind her of his still healing injuries, Penelope had made her way to him and pulled him into a massive hug. She grabbed his coat so hard that her knuckles turned white and just held him for the longest time. It took what, in a different situation, could've been amusingly long before he finally overcome his shock enough to return her gesture.

"Come back home", Penelope commanded, and somehow that was all that needed to be said.

Spencer swallowed thickly. He turned his head so that his face couldn't be seen. "I'll do whatever I can", he promised.

The others took their turn. JJ hugged him as well and opened her mouth several times but for some reason the words wouldn't come. She hoped, from the bottom of her heart, that he knew anyway. Spencer tried to offer David his hand for a shake but the older agent opted to give him his third hug of the day instead. They both pretended not to notice how misty the other's eyes were. With Aaron Spencer exchanged a nod and a meaningful look. A hug would've reminded them both entirely too much of another nightmare.

Alex also wrapped her arms around him. The hold was a little tighter than would've been necessary. "Remember that we're all here waiting for you", she whispered into his ear, her voice breaking a little despite her best effort. "So be careful."

And that left just Derek. The friends looked at each other for a while, neither sure how to approach the situation. "Are you…?" Derek cleared his throat, then tried again. "Are you sure that I can't go with you?"

Spencer nodded sternly, his eyes hardening. "Don't even think about it", he all but growled. "You need to stay. Look after the team."

Derek blinked rapidly for a few seconds until the man, stunning them both, grabbed Spencer for a brief hug. "You'd better take care of yourself, kid." Of course they knew that he was about as far from a kid as possible. But it was oddly heartwarming that despite all that had happened at least one thing hadn't changed.

That, of course, was when chief Tyler entered the room once more. There was a grim look on her face. "I'm sorry. But time's up."

For a one more time Spencer looked at the group, at his family. Memorizing every little thing. Imprinting to his mind just how much there was to come back home for. And then, although every little thing about him screamed how little he wanted to, he turned and walked away.

Penelope managed to hold herself at least somewhat together until the room's door opened. As soon as it had she broke down into sobs, tears running down her cheeks. Instanty Derek wrapped his arms around her and held her, struggling furiously against also starting to cry.

It was unfair, really, that as from that moment all they could do was wait and hope.

* * *

Spencer was fairly sure that he was in a state of shock while he followed chief Tyler through a narrow, carefully hidden hallway, ending up to a small carage. There was a black car waiting for him. Waiting to take him who knows where. Away from everything, most likely.

"Spencer." Chief Tyler's eyes were unreadable. "There's… someone I'd trust with my own life in that car. She's going to keep you company until you're well and then assist you with taking down Hollard."

One corner of Spencer's mouth twitched. "Oh. A babysitter?"

Chief Tyler looked at him dryly. "Judging your track record, you certainly need one." She then sighed heavily, her eyes softening. "Good luck. And for heaven's sake, come back alive. You've given me enough gray hair already."

Spencer nodded, not feeling any particular need to speak. He entered the vehicle and slumped down a bit more heavily than his still very much ailing body would've allowed. For a few fleeting moments he regretted not accepting the wheelchair that'd been offered to him. That thought lived until he finally sensed that he wasn't alone. Instantly on alert he turned his head, one hand reaching unnoticeably towards the gun hidden underneath his long, black jacket. His eyes widened at what he discovered.

"Hello, stranger."

It took longer than it should've before he managed to speak. As he did he didn't sound quite like himself. "Austin?"

The last time he saw her she was a bartender he met while working on a case. Someone who seemed to enjoy his magic tricks and, surprisingly, his company. They called each other back and forth for a while until life got in the way and they decided that a long-distance relationship just wasn't worth the effort in their case. And now…? (1)

She winced. "I'm afraid that I wasn't quite honest with you." And just like that she swapped effortlessly to a British accent. "I'm Abigail Holmes, MI6."

A violent shiver crossed Spencer. Holmes…? Just like Anya…

"I began the process of joining MI6 a couple of weeks after I found out that Anya was working for the Interpol. That's what we always did, we looked out for one another. We'd already lost two brothers and I wasn't planning on letting her follow if I could help it." For a moment pain flashed in her eyes and her hands shook. She focused on something outside the car's window. "We… were all sent after the same monster's Web. I changed my name, learned a new accent and dyed my hair dark, then got a job at a bar that the web's members like to use." Her eyes warmed slightly. "Anya, always the perfectionist, taught herself to be a psychiatric nurse at a record time."

The pain that pierced Spencer was almost unbearable. He gritted his teeth as hard as he could and folded his arms, focusing on the white gold band decorating his left ring finger. It was the real one, which he bought on the same day on which he got the tattoo to make sure that he'd never forget. It was far more beautiful than the pitiable dublicate Hollard and Joseph Bell arranged as evidence against him. Carved inside were the initials of both of the girls he lost on that pitch black night, followed by the exact number of hours each spent in his life. Later on Maeve Donovan's similar information had been added. Spencer fought a mighty battle to keep himself from fiddling the piece of jewellery. "How… are you allowed to work on this case?" The reason he hadn't spoken about his true relationship with Anya was that it would've had him kicked out of the case. So how was her sister…?

Austin – or no, Abigail – shrugged. "I took my mother's maiden name. As far as anyone knows I'm Abigail Scott. No one cared to check further when there are more important matters at hand." She then sighed and leaned forward. "Look… I understand that you have a lot of questions and I'll answer every single one that I can later. But right now we need to focus on the case."

Spencer nodded. It took quite a bit of willpower to usher his mind into present. "Any news on Hollard?"

Abigail smirked in a way he knew entirely too well. For a second she looked disturbingly lot like Anya despite the different hair color. "Right after your fake funeral I… arranged a run-in with him. I would've loved to shoot him right there but we need to demolish his Web first. So instead of a bullet or some painful, slow effecting drug I put a micro chip into him. We've been tracking down his movements ever since, leaving every single bridge behind him in flames. Right now we're down to six remaining locations."

Spencer's heart jumped painfully and his eyes widened. Only six? Did that mean that this would all be over soon? That he'd get to go home?

Abigail gave him a warning look. As though she'd read his mind. "It won't be easy, Spencer. Those remaining cells are the most deep rooted and dangerous. And we can only use a small team to avoid leaving too many traces." Her jawline tightened. "Hollard isn't an idiot. He knows that something suspicious is going on so we need to be careful or this will all blow up on our faces. So, as much as I hate the waiting… For now we'll let him lull himself to a false sense of security. And we'll let you recover. Then we attack."

"But we'll destroy him, and the Web", Spencer all but growled. Because of that man he lost his daughter, his unborn child and a woman he was planning on marrying. Almost his own life as well, twice. He was betrayed by someone he considered his mentor, a friend.

"Of course." Abigail grinned, her eyes flashing. "We'll see if killing a spider really brings bad luck."

Spencer chuckled dryly. He was a bit surprised to discover that there was some genuine humor in it. "I'm taking my chances."

* * *

_Twenty Months Later_

* * *

After years upon years – months and months upon months – of fighting, hiding, seeking and pushing himself forward Spencer finally stood on the edge of the end.

For a few more moments he simply stood there, staring at the massive, incredibly beautiful mansion located on one of the most beautiful spots in the south of France. The night around him was deceitfully calm and pleasantly warm while his eyes scanned through the building. He counted twenty security cameras. That wouldn't be a challenge.

If there was one thing he'd always been good at it was being invisible.

As Spencer proceeded his earpiece transmitted messages of his team confirming their targets having been taken care of. Good. There'd be only one man waiting for him.

And waiting Ian Hollard was.

The man stood there in the main room, his back to the door. The murderer seemed to be staring intently at a fireplace, as though trying to memorize each unpredictable shift of the flames. It seemed to take ages before Hollard spoke. "I had a feeling that you people might come. When I lost contact to the Dublin cell this morning I knew that I'd be next." The man sighed, scratching at his scarred shoulder. "I tried digging out the micro chip, you know? And I even tried frying its system with electricity. But nothing worked. So, congratulations. Your scientists finally managed to design something that works."

An ice cold smirk appeared to Spencer's face. "The man who designed it was very inspired and had a lot of free time while undercover in a mental institution. Although back then I imagined that I was developing it to be used on Bell." Two surprises, there. He never knew that someone got their hands on his supposedly carefully hidden designs and he most definitely never expected Hollard's deception. He shrugged. "We all make mistakes." _Some of us more than others._

Under different circumstances it would've been amusing how Hollard stiffened visibly at the sound of his voice. It took a few moments before the criminal mastermind turned towards him, surprise visible in his eyes. "I should've known", the man chuckled and shook his head. "I should've known that you're too stubborn to stay in a grave. You're still afraid of the dark, aren't you?" Those eyes flashed. "Bell once told me that Anya always wanted to sleep with one light on, too."

The sound of the double gunshot came so suddenly that Spencer shivered a little, accompanied by the faint noise of a window glass cracking. One bullet hit the wall right next to the fireplace, then bounced and seemed to lodge itself to a piece of antique furniture. Another bullet found home from Hollard's leg, shattering the kneecap and bringing the older man down with a howl of pain. Spencer had no idea which bullet was his doing.

For a few stilled moments he could only stare. That was until he heard Abigail's voice from his earpiece. "_Sixty seconds. Start running_."

Spencer's gaze strayed towards Hollard, who was gasping on the floor, bleeding and his face pale. His own eyes narrowed. "You have two options." He gritted his teeth. "In fifty-eight seconds three firebombs will go off in the lower floors of this mansion. The whole building will be nothing but a fiery inferno. Either you let me drag you out and finally face every… little… bit of what you've done. Or you stay here and the flames will take care of you." How horrible was it of him that he actually preferred the latter option?

For a second Hollard simply stared. Then gave a pained grin. "One thing… I never managed to teach you… You always try to save everyone."

Spencer's eyes darkened. "I learned more than you know." With that he turned and began to walk away.

Something, a sixth sense perhaps, alerted him when he was only four steps away from the door. He turned his head just in time to see Hollard lifting a gun against him. Spencer, already prepared, was faster. A single gunshot at his former teacher's hand brought the gun down and sent a brand new yell of pain echoing on the mansion's walls. Spencer turned away once more and walked away without another backwards glance. On his way he sent a hurried message through his earpiece. "Target Alpha down. Take cover, now!"

Or well, he did turn back around when he was at a safe distance. Just in time for the sounds of the firebombs going off. He shuddered instinctively at the explosions but didn't look away. His eyes were wide and wild while he watched how the flames basically swallowed up the mansion, the fire spreading at a inhuman speed.

Time seemed to lose all meaning, there. That's why Spencer couldn't tell how long had passed when all of a sudden the mansion's door was pushed open and a badly burned figure crawled out, finally slumping about to the ground seven steps' worth from the fiery hell. It took him a moment to realize what, exactly, was happening. When it finally sunk in he found himself approaching, like a moth drawn to a flame. His hands, basically all of him, trembled.

Hollard was burned to a point where he was barely recognizeable, to a point where even the best of medical care could only prolong the inevitable. The man's loud, raspy breaths sounded absolutely horrible. The criminal's only survived eye glanced towards the gun in Spencer's hold longingly, desperately. It didn't take a genius to understand the plea.

For a couple of seconds Spencer's hand rose, ready to fire the shot of mercy. He never did. Instead he holstered his gun and watched, not even noticing the heat of the still raging fire. Nor did Spencer feel the tears running down his face or the racing beat of his heart.

The sight of the dying man he once looked up to blurred together with that of Anya's dead body, left for him to find.

Those nauseating dying noises were replaced by the sound of his daughter crying.

The desperate prayer in those eyes was terrifyingly similar to what crossed him when he, against all odds, woke up after that night.

It seemed to take ages. But eventually, as the fire trucks began to approach from the horizon, Hollard emitted a one more horrible sound. A mixture of agony and rage. Then the eye Spencer had been staring at glazed over. There were no more noises or movements.

Spencer was so focused on the now dead man that he tensed up, almost reaching out for his gun, when someone appeared beside him. He relaxed slightly upon discovering that it was Abigail. The woman's expression was unreadable while she, too, stared at Hollard's corpse. Then, so suddenly that it took him by surprise, she raised her gun and fired two shots. One to Hollard's chest, the second between the man's eyes.

"I'm leaving nothing for a chance", she announced in a voice that held a baffling amount of emotions.

They were long gone by the time the firetrucks arrived, leaving behind the still flaming mansion and the remains of a man who shattered their worlds.

* * *

About a week later the team was just coming back from a long, rough case when they all noticed something that sent inner alarm bells blaring. It was almost two o'clock in the morning. So why was the break room's door still open?

They exchanged loudly speaking looks, then began to approach. On their way they prepared themselves for pretty much any possible threat, Ian Hollard himself included. They weren't prepared for what they faced. The sight froze them by the room's doorway.

There in the shadowy room that had its one light on a lone figure lay on the couch. Sound asleep although frowning and emitting a barely audible whimper every now and then, as though having nightmares. It took them a moment to recognize and much longer to actually believe what they were seeing.

Spencer… looked like he'd been to hell and back, in all honesty. His hair was longer and darker than before, which made the paleness of his face and the dark circles around his eyes stand out. Those, and the bruises that made them all wince. Despite the long, black coat he'd draped around himself it was all too easy to tell that he was even thinner than before. Despite being asleep there were new lines on his face. But he was still their Spencer Reid, their resident genius. He was back, alive if not exactly well. And they all knew what it meant.

It was finally over.

Aaron and David looked at each other, exchanging a rare, fully open smile. JJ wiped her eyes with a unsteady hand, unleashing a teary chuckle. Alex smiled as well, fighting tears. Derek took a step forward, eager to see his friend awake and to hear his voice, but Penelope stopped him with a stunningly stern hand. Stern, despite the tears on her broadly smiling face.

Penelope couldn't hold back herself, though. Careful to make it as soundless and subtle as possible she made her way to him and wrapped the jacket even more tightly around him, each motion full of care and gentleness. Only the fear of disturbing his obviously much needed rest kept her from reaching out and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

_Welcome back, sweetie._

Penelope was just about to withdraw when she felt something that halted the actions effectively. Spencer's hand grapped hers, not tightly but still firmly enough to assure that he meant it. Even in his sleep he'd somehow sensed her presence and was now reaching out.

Penelope's mind was made up quickly. They'd nearly lost him, several times. He'd been stolen from them for the entirety of two years. If he needed her now… Then there was no way she was leaving him.

Penelope was dimly aware of the others beginning the preparations for staying at the bureau for the night. Clearly they weren't any more eager to let Spencer out of their sight. But the majority of her concentration was focused on him.

The second she responded to his hold some of the lines and ache faded away from his face. As though her mere presence had chased a small part of the nightmares away. The thought brought a brand new smile to her face although her eyes weren't dry. "You're home now", she whispered. "You're finally home." And that was a good start, wasn't it?

* * *

/ _To the praying mother and the worried father_

_Let your children go_

_If they come back they'll come home stronger_

_And if they don't you'll know_

_Like the prodigal son, I was out on my own_

_Now I'm trying to find my way back home_

_Baptized in the river_

_I'm delivered, I'm delivered_ /

(Good Charlotte: 'The River')

* * *

TBC, in a way, for just a tiny bit.

* * *

1) Yup, Austin is a canon character from episode '52 Pickup'. Well okay, this version holds a bit of a twist from me. (smirks)

* * *

A/N: Oh wow…! I wrote that chapter on one sitting and the experience was… quite intense. How was it for you guys? Any good, at all?

Ah, and there's a one more suggestion. Instead of my usual epilogue I'm thinking about posting a few recovery chapters. Because somehow it feels like this can't all be wrapped in just one four to five pages long chapters. How does that idea sound to you?

Ya know how to let me know. (winks, and points at the box down below)

Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll be stopping by there.

Take care!

* * *

**Patricia**: Yup, he's alive. He's actually alive. (sighs with relief) But the tale is by no means over just yet… We'll see where the road leads him next.

Monumental thank yous for the review! Until next time.


	13. Epilogue part 1 of 3 – Time to Go Home

A/N: Phew! Almost late but not quite. This is qualifies as a Sunday special.

BUT, first… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your amazing reviews, listings and support! This story's slowly coming to an end and I've gotta tell you, it's been an amazing journey with you. (HUGS)

Awkay, before I get all mushy… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Epilogue part one of three – Time to Go Home

* * *

It had taken almost a full week to have it confirmed. To make sure that even a single bit of Hollard's twisted legacy wasn't left. As soon as they could be sure the text messages began to rain all over the world. Alerting people who'd spent years of their lives hiding.

The Spider was dead and the Web had been destroyed – it was time to go home.

In Paris a thirty-two year old who hadn't used her real name Bréa Lorel in six years was shaking right down to the core of her being as she stood behind the door of a massive, white house. For a long moment she considered running away. But before she ever could the door opened, revealing a couple that'd aged so much in the past years that it pained her to the core of her being.

At first they could only stare at each other. None of them quite believing what was right there, before their very eyes. The moment her mother clung to her, crying from the bottom of her heart and soul, something broke inside Bréa as well while she held back with all her might. Buried her face into a still oh so familiar shoulder. They were the first tears she'd shed in six years.

In Wellington Elijah Jackson, barely twenty-four but in many ways older than most eighty years olds, bit back a groan of pain while he made his way to the back of a small, stunningly beautiful church. He paid no mind to the stunning place or all the people. All he could focus on was the bride. She was just as beautiful as she was when he last saw her five years earlier. When he kissed her in her sleep and told her that he was sorry. Or no, she was even more beautiful with her heavily pregnant stomach.

"Will you, Keira Mackenzie…"

And just then her eyes turned towards him, as though she'd been waiting for a sign. Their eyes met and while his heart shattered to a million pieces some color drained from her face. To her he wasn't more than a ghost from the past. And he kind of was.

He wasn't about to steal this joy from her. So he smiled, the best as he could, and waved. Saying goodbye in the only way he could without destroying her life again. Keira blinked once, slowly. By the time her eyes opened again he was gone.

"I do", she whispered and wasn't entirely sure why she wanted to cry.

In Wales Lisa Jones' eyes were far older than her thirty-one years while she watched over her seven-years-old twins from the porch of their house. Guarding them with steel hard resolve. Alone, as she'd been all their lives.

For the past seven and a half years she'd had a certain recurring dream. Something between a fantasy and a cruel nightmare. She'd feel a familiar presence before hearing a entirely too well known, much longed soft voice. Only, this time it didn't feel like a dream. "I'm so sorry that it took me this long to come back to you three."

She turned her gaze slowly, slowly, to meet a pair of blue eyes that she wasn't supposed to see ever again.

In Sussex a man who hadn't been home in twelve years approached the only home that he knew, now. The cemetery's gate screeched miserably, adding even more ache, while he made his way inside and began to appoach slowly. It seemed to take ages before his limping steps reached the grave he'd been looking for. The pain that pierced him was almost more than he could take and he shuddered, as though having been hit by a yet another bullet.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, hoping that the wind carried the words far enough. He didn't bother to wipe away the spilling tears. "That… That it took me too long to come back. That I wasn't there when…" He gritted his teeth, hard. The brief ache didn't change anything. "I… I know that I made a mess of things. And I don't know if you'll ever forgive me, wherever you are. But…" He sighed. "You have no reason to believe me but still… I promise you, that every single day I have to spend here I'll do whatever I can to make you proud." He looked up, unable to blink the moisture away from his eyes. "Those days… They'll be hard. But since I couldn't join you on this adventure… I'll live the time I have left with the same fire you would've."

There was no response, of course. Which didn't keep him from still expecting one. When steps approached that faith kept him hanging on until a female voice spoke. "Are you ready to go, Dr. Morstan?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes still focused on the grave. "Yeah. Let's go." Although he didn't have any idea where.

In a hospital in Stockholm a very nervous Stina Persson, who almost never got to see this thirtieth birthday of hers, trembled while she stared at the room's door. At the moment her numerous physical injuries didn't even register. All she could concentrate on was the door and the furious hammering of her heart.

And then, after what felt like decades, the tall figure of a man she still knew better than well appeared. There was pain and mistrust in his eyes but she let those be for a moment. She'd fix them later. She'd remind him of how much she loved him, of why she did this. But at the moment she only had eyes for his companion.

The scared and confused looking little girl stood at the room's doorway had grown up dramatically over the two years and five months she'd spent away. A three-year-old had turned into a child of whose life she'd been forced to miss out far too much. The girl gulped, still not daring to move. "_Mom?_" the little one whispered in the end.

Stina couldn't speak. Instead she spread her arms, doing her best not to cry. The little girl didn't have to be told twice. The pain didn't even register to the mother when she folded the child into a tight, nearly desperate hug. Tears of joy and relief ran down her cheeks.

All over the world similar reunions took place. Some of them happy, some bittersweet, some devastating. In the hearts of those lost souls returning to life one simple yet powerful message was beating.

_It's finally over_, echoed in the minds of them all. It was finally over. It was time to go home.

* * *

When Mateo Cruz was told about the insane, dangerous plan to save Spencer's life through faking his death and sending him after Hollard he didn't know what to think. All he could do was hope that the youngest member of his team would come back alive. Because as he looked at the rest of the team, visibly grieving and in pain although the battle wasn't lost, he had a feeling that they wouldn't be able to handle losing the genius for real.

He certainly knew that officially declaring SSA Dr. Spencer Reid dead and seeing the man's face on one of those horrible photographs on the wall every day pained him.

Weeks turned into months. Months turned into years. There wasn't a single word, couldn't be, so he was left wondering if Spencer was even alive anymore. Surely he would've been notified if…?

Finally, finally he got his answer in the form of a phone call from a unfamiliar number. He frowned and contemplated for a while before picking up. "Chief Cruz."

At first there was nothing. But then, a second before he would've hung up, a voice that he'd truly feared he'd never hear again whispered. Barely audible yet impossibly loud. "_Could you… Could you let me in? It's cold_…"

Mateo didn't waste a second. Sure enough, he found Spencer slumped to a bench at a safe distance from the bureau's main entrance. For a moment he thought about asking the supposedly dead agent if the man was alright but then thought better of it. They looked at each other for the longest time, as though trying to assure themselves that the other was really there. And then, although Spencer looked ready to collapse at any second, Mateo just had to smile.

Spencer returned it the best as the man could. The expression then crumbled and the agent looked away, appearing embrassed, confused, scared and frustrated. "I… I'm sorry, that I came here. But… I've been… dead, and I don't have a home, so…"

Mateo sighed inaudibly, taking in the other's physical and emotional condition. This… wouldn't be a smooth ride. "I'm glad that you came here." He meant it. He gave the other a moment before speaking again. "Now let's get you inside before you freeze over."

Mateo helped Spencer to his feet and inside, earning loudly speaking, questioning looks from security personel on their way. He ignored them. Mateo didn't quite know where they were going until they reached the break room. He guided Spencer to the couch and made sure that the younger man was as comfortable as possible. Then… Then he just didn't know what to do.

He ran a hand through his hair, focusing on the room's window. "The others… They're on a case but they should be back soon. Do you want me to…?" He turned towards Spencer and was cut off abruptly. The younger man was already fast asleep.

Careful to do it so it didn't disturb the ailing man he helped Spencer to a more comfortable position and used the agent's coat to cover the trembling frame. The actions caused Spencer to stir but the man didn't wake up. Being sure to do so as quietly as possible Mateo left the room.

For the next few hours he kept an eye on his patient through a security camera's footage and occasional visits. For a while he thought about contacting the team but decided against it. They'd had a nightmarish case and this… might just be the perfect pleasant surprise.

Finally a glimpse he stole towards the monitor's screen upon returning from coffee hunt revealed the sight he'd been waiting for. The whole team was there, quickly yet silently preparing for a prolonged stay at the bureau. A smile made its way to Mateo's face while he watched them settling around the youngest member of their family, whom they'd come so close to losing several times.

It was time for him to go home, he decided and gulped down the last of his coffee upon acting on the impulse. Before departing he glanced towards the group once more and felt a spark of warmth settling to his entire body. As soon as he'd make it home he'd let them know that they'd have the following couple of days off.

* * *

Waking up wasn't easy for Spencer. The dark, dreamless fog around him was so quiet, painless and comforting that a large part of him didn't want to leave it. But he was much too stubborn to stay down like that. And little by little his mind began to reach out for the waken world. Fumbling, seeking.

"Reid?"

Slowly but steadily, with a great deal of willpower, his eyes opened. Responding to the familiar voice's almost desperate call. It took much longer than it should've before he was able to distinguish the figure of a man hovering above him. A sharp jolt of panic went through him in an instant.

It was a very, very long time from when someone beside him as he woke up from unconsciousness was good news.

The panic lived until his eyes sharpened enough to recognize Derek's face. The older agent seemed tired and very worried but there was no way he could've missed the sheer, bubbling joy. "Hey, there. About time you wake up."

It took a mighty while before it all came back to Spencer. Stumbling his way to the bureau. He still wasn't sure how, exactly, he made his way inside. Not that it would've mattered much.

Spencer swallowed, sitting up the best as he could. His very stiff and even more sore body certainly wasn't thrilled by the effort. "How… long was I…?" The last words faded away.

"Forty six hours. You needed the rest." Derek's worry seemed to diminish slightly at the sound of him talking. "We had someone from the bureau's medical team check you over and he couldn't find anything overly alarming. You've been through hell but with time and rest you should be fine. Despite your best attempts." The man's eyes narrowed. "You ran away from a hospital, didn't you?"

Spencer blinked a couple of times, genuinely surprised. Yes, he'd been in a hospital. And he'd been dreaming about an escape since he first woke up from having collapsed a few minutes after walking away from Hollard's corpse. But… "How…?"

There was a brief spark of mirth in Derek's eyes. "You've obviously been hooked on an I.V. not too long ago. There's bruising on the back of your hand. There's also a hint of skin irritation from when the hospital's ID-bracelet damaged it upon being removed forcefully." The older man's gaze darkened slightly. "And I can tell that you're in pain. You're supposed to be in a hospital and on strong pain meds."

Spencer shook his head immediately, a violent surge of panic going through him. The medication they gave him only intensified his nightmares, made it harder to wake up and escape from them. The medication made it hard to focus and he _had to_ remain focused.

Just in case he'd missed one little bit of Hollard's Web. Just in case the threat was still coming for his team – his family. Just in case…

Derek frowned, clearly sensing his growing distress. "Reid?" When he gave no sign of hearing the man tried again. "Spencer? What's wrong?"

Spencer swallowed, feeling sick and dizzy. Most definitely not in control over himself. He'd… He was there when Joseph Bell and Ian Hollard died. But what if his team missed something? What if it wasn't over yet, after all?

It'd been so long, so many years…! A lifetime…! Of hiding, pretending, hunting, being hunted, losses, pain, anger, terror… How could it be over all of a sudden?

"I…" He gulped again. The horrific taste in his mouth didn't go anywhere. He tried to look at Derek but couldn't quite bring himself to. He pushed himself up, ignoring the fact that his body was far from ready for such. "This… Coming back… I made a mistake. I'm sorry." If there really was someone from the Web alive, out there, he'd just risked the entire bureau and his friends. How could he be so…?!

"Spencer!" Derek sounded scared. Of him or for him, he was too confused to tell. "It's okay. The Web... It's gone. It's safe, now. You're safe."

Safe? Spencer blinked rapidly, dimly noticing that his breathing pattern was far from healthy. What was safe anymore?

He felt a pair of hands grabbing his shoulders. The contact was far more than his fried nerves were able to handle. He unleashed a scream. Or at least he thought he did. Desperately tried to yell at the world to stop spinning, to plead everything to just _stop_ for a moment.

Then everything did stop and it became pitch-black.

* * *

The next time consciousness began to reach out for Spencer he, once again, sensed that he wasn't alone. But this time it didn't scare him. His companion was a woman. Or wait, two women.

More curious than alarmed Spencer forced his eyes halfway open. The first thing that filled his line of vision was a cupcake, home made. And then his attention shifted to spot a figure sleeping on the floor, less than a step away. Not touching but still very clearly there for him. Penelope seemed tired but there was also a small smile on her face.

That was when he heard steps. Looking up quickly he saw Alex. She gave him a small, slightly sad smile. "Hey", she whispered, mindful not to disturb Penelope. "You really should eat. Do you think you're up to it?"

Spencer shook his head immediately, even the mere thought making his stomach turn.

Alex nodded. "Alright." She breathed. "Then get some more rest. I know that it's scaring you but you need it." Seeing his expression she was quick to continue. "We'll be both keeping watch for you. I promise. So sleep."

And he did. Because he really didn't have a choice over the matter. It wasn't as terrifying as he thought it would be.

* * *

Aaron was there the next time Spencer woke up. It was dark outside and he could only try to guess how late it was. Still his boss appeared perfectly awake.

Aaron greeted him with a nod. The man's eyes spoke a lot more than they probably should've. "I heard that you haven't eaten yet." Something wrapped in white was offered to him. "Eat this." It wasn't a request.

Not entirely sure if he'd be able to obey Spencer took the offering with unsteady hands. His stomach made unpleasant, nauseating backflips while he carefully removed the wrapping. What he found was a sandwich. Plain and simple. He was grateful that there was no meat. He wasn't sure if he would've been able to handle it with the stench of Hollard's burned corpse etched permanently to his mind.

Aaron also gave him a bottle of water. "Eat that and drink this." The unit chief's voice was oddly soft, understanding. "Then you can sleep some more."

Spencer wasn't sure if could handle it. But he also knew that he needed it. So slowly, slowly and with a great deal of effort he got to the job. The comfortable silence lingering between them helped some. As did the fact that eating and drinking seemed to be all the other man expected of him. At least for now.

Keeping the sandwich and water down was a war Spencer barely won and it exhausted him to a point where he fell asleep sitting up.

* * *

Spencer woke up from the sight of Anya's bleeding body to his own scream that echoed horrifyingly loudly in the room's walls. It was still dark. Too dark. The sight of the blood refused to leave his line of vision.

His mouth opened for another scream that he had no breath for until JJ's familiar voice spoke. "It's okay, Spence. It was just a nightmare." Two steps took her to him and she knelt beside him. Not quite touching but so close that he felt her warmth.

Spencer looked away. It was fortunate, perhaps, that he didn't know about the tear that rolled down his cheek. "It wasn't just a dream", he murmured in a voice he couldn't recognize.

"I know", JJ whispered, her voice full of sadness.

They remained that way, drawing comfort from each other's presence, until his eyes began to droop. He frowned, trying to fight it. "Shh, just go back to sleep. It's okay", JJ soothed him. She smiled although her eyes seemed moist. "And just so you know… Henry's really excited that you're back. He's already told all his friends about his amazing uncle Spencer who did a magic trick and came back."

Upon drifting back into oblivion Spencer felt his lips twitch slightly. It wasn't a smile, not even close. But maybe, just maybe, it was a start.

* * *

When Spencer next woke up the room was once again full of light. Devoid of the horrors of the dark. And David sat a few steps away, sipping coffee. There was sympathy on the older man's face but no grief or pity. It made the tension in Spencer's muscles ease somehow.

"So…", the senior agent started lenghtily. "I've been thinking. And I think that you need to get out of this room. You've been here for too long."

Spencer, who'd somehow managed to sit up, tensed up entirely. His arms wrapped tightly around his legs in a ridiculous attempt to shield himself against a threat he couldn't understand. "Where… would I go?" And truthfully, he wasn't even sure if he'd be physically able to leave. To face the world outside. A world where he no longer had a goal, a purpose. Or the reporters and questions.

"To my house", David replied without a beat of hesitation. The man pressed on instantly at his mortified expression. "At least until the paper war is over and you find a place for yourself. Because I'm your friend. And I insist."

Well, that effectively demolished most of Spencer's arguments. He looked down at his hands. They were trembling and fisted so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. "I'm… I don't sleep very well." The last thing he wanted was keeping David up with his nightmares.

"It's a big house, remember? There's plenty of room to be restless." David held his quiet for a while. "Besides, I have restless nights, too. Why not share them?"

Spencer still didn't know if he wanted to. But he also knew that he couldn't spend his days on the bureau's couch. And the idea of having someone, a friend, around…

Spencer nodded, hoping from the bottom of his heart that this all wouldn't end to a yet another massive disaster.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: And so the long road to recovery begins. We'll see what's up ahead next…

Sooo… Was that any good, at all? Ya know that the box down below is waiting for your verdict. (smirks)

I've REALLY gotta go now. Until next time, ya all! I really hope that I'll see you then.

Take care!

* * *

**Guest**: So am I! Now it's time for the recover chapters to begin.

Huge thank yous for the review!

* * *

**Patricia**: I'm excited beyond belief to hear that you've enjoyed the story thus far and twists so much!

In love with Spencer? Weeell, maybe a little bit… (smirks)

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

**Sniper**: I'm overjoyed to hear that you enjoyed the chapter so much! Especially the ending, because that was my own personal favorite part.

(giggles) Don't worry, your secret is safe with me!

Merci beaucoup for your review! I really hope that you'll keep enjoying the ride.


	14. Epilogue part 2 of 3 – Time to Talk

A/N: HOORAY! I honestly thought that I wouldn't be able to pull a Sunday update. But here I am!

First, though… THANK YOU, from the very bottom of my heart, for your amazing reviews! You guys are amazing. You know that, don't you? (HUGS)

Awkay, because I'm sure that you'd appreciate getting to the actual business… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Epilogue part two of three – Time to Talk

* * *

On the day after David's suggestion it was finally time for Spencer to leave the safety of the bureau behind. JJ managed to persuade a couple of her old media liaison's contacts into helping so the still very much recovering young man didn't have to worry about reporters harassing him. But still it felt surreal and overwhelming to leave the building behind. To try and convince himself that there were no more monsters lurking in the shadows around him. It wasn't easy to let go of the paranoia that'd been a part of his life for a decade. Or was it longer? He couldn't quite tell anymore. To him it felt like a lifetime. Certainly enough had happened for a couple of lifetimes.

David could tell that Spencer was struggling while he escorted the younger man towards his car. But the breakdown never came. Instead Spencer remained practically soundless throughout their journey.

The whole team was there to see them off, ignoring the fact that as profilers they could clearly see that Spencer wasn't ready for such attention. They just couldn't hold themselves back. This was their youngest, after all.

Small hugs and comforting words flowed before they parted ways. Still Spencer didn't break his silence, instead offered tiny nods and tense, hollow fake smiles. Just before taking off David met Aaron's eyes which reflected the same worry that festered in his own heart. But instead of letting fear take over David offered a firm nod, hoping that he wasn't making a promise he couldn't keep.

Three minutes of driving passed by before David came to the conclusion that Spencer wasn't going to start the conversation. He glanced towards the younger man. "Are you still sure about this?"

Spencer's only answer was a small nod. And no more words were offered for the entire evening. As soon as they made it to David's mansion and he was shown a room Spencer fell asleep.

Much later that night David, who'd only just dozed off, woke up to the sound of a feral, animalistic scream. His heart hammered wildly while he dashed into the room he gave Spencer. For the longest time he held the violently trashing, hysterical young agent, doing his best to assure the other that it was all a dream. And for the first time David really doubted whether he'd be able to do this.

* * *

The team's first case since Spencer's return wasn't one of their easiest. They received a call to Oregon when the fifth victim with Stigmatas was found. The body count hit eight before they finally caught the UnSub, a man of Spencer's age who looked entirely too much like the genius. The killer took his own life right before the eyes of Derek and JJ, slitting his wrists before letting himself fall down from the sixth floor of a apartment building.

Upon receiving the news Penelope was tired, shocked, frustrated and inexplainably angry. More than willing to just go home and sleep for a full day. She was far from ready for the phone call she received.

"_Penelope Garcia?_"

She stiffened, very dark memories filling her mind. Her mouth went painfully dry. "Yes?"

"_I'm Martha Oswald from FoodLand, Virginia. I've… got a bit of an unusual problem._" The woman sighed. "_A… friend of yours, Spencer, was here grocery shopping when he ended up being harassed by reporters. They kept asking about… Anya, and Diane, and he… had a breakdown. He's safe now but unresponsive. The only thing we got out of him was your name and number. We would've taken him to a doctor but he made it clear that he didn't want it_."

Penelope's heart broke and she actually winced. As far as she knew this was the first time their youngest teammember left David's mansion alone since setting foot there. Oh no…! "I'll be there in ten minutes", she promised before hanging up.

She was there in eight. A rather startled looking member of staff led her to the backroom as soon as she'd introduced herself. From there she found Spencer, who appeared unnaturally pale, exhausted and malnourished. Like someone barely holding on. There was far too little and entirely too much at the same time in his eyes when they met hers.

Penelope sighed. "C'mon", she coaxed him as gently as she could. "Let's go."

Penelope was immensely grateful that there were no reporters because she wasn't sure what she would've done if she'd spotted one. She showed Spencer the way while fighting the urge to hold his hand, unnerved by how quiet he was. It was raining hard outside by the time they made it there. They were drenched before they reached her car.

For the following five minutes the rain was the only sound until Penelope chose to break it. "So… Do you want to tell me what happened?"

It took eighty-five seconds, each of which she counted, until Spencer finally spoke. He was trembling and it was easy to see how hard he fought tears. "I… I forgot the milk."

"Shh…", Penelope soothed, stroking his hair with a not quite steady hand. "Shh… Calm down, sweetie. It's going to be okay, I promise. Just calm down."

Spencer had held himself together with the sheer power of his will from the moment his whole world was shattered by a monster. But something about this very moment, or perhaps Penelope's soft voice, broke his resolve. Shattered the barricades he'd spent ages on building.

He lost Anya and his daughter, and never even got the chance to grieve. There was never enough time. Nor was he ever with a person he would've trusted enough. Not before this.

At first a single tear, which he barely noticed, rolled. And then several more followed. Forming a river that he just couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried.

Penelope hesitated but the moment of uncertainty didn't last long when she saw the tears glistering on Spencer's cheeks. There was no guarantee that he'd take any form of physical contact well but it was all she had to offer. And so, risking far more than she was willing to think about, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. His body gave a tremor of protest but he didn't pull away. Penelope liked to imagine that it was because he felt comfortable with her soothing touch, not because he was too far gone in a shock.

That was how they stayed for the next two hours, Spencer finally letting go of some of the crushing pain and Penelope holding him, doing her best to help them both withstand through the storm while pouring rain pounded on the car's windows.

* * *

The first three weeks of Spencer's stay at David's mansion were everything but easy. They ended up triggering more than a few of each other's old mental scars and after living alone for so long having someone around constantly was frustrating for both of them. And Spencer hadn't lied when he warned David about his restless nights. The senior agent quickly lost count on how many times he woke up to the other's horrifying howls of pain, terror and agony, or to the younger agent's restless pacing. From time to time outbursts of Spencer's lingering anger and fear made sharing a house with the man a rattling experience. David ended up investing on a punching bag when he returned from a case to find one of his mirrors in shambles and a wide eyed, bleeding Spencer apologizing profusely, as though the man had just physically harmed someone other than himself.

But it wasn't only darkness and pain, not all of it.

It was a inhumanly early – in David's opinion half past seven counted as such on a day off – Sunday morning when David woke up. It took him a few moments to figure out what, exactly, roused him. Then the alluring scent of something being baked met his nose, coaxing him out of his very comfortable and tempting bed.

David groaned a little and yawned, then made his way to the kitchen. What he discovered made him arch an eyebrow with a fond smile. Granted, the sight would've made anyone smile.

Just like so many times before Spencer was cooking. Apparently cooking, aside keeping the house so clean that David was genuinely baffled, was the genius' way of saying 'thank you' for providing him with a place to say. David would've lied if he said that he wasn't pleased. Spencer's skills in chemisty and amazing memory, along with the fact that he looked after himself and his mother for eight years when he was just a child, had made an excellent chef out of him. The older agent only wished that he'd been able to convince his friend into eating with him more often.

Just then Spencer noticed him and stunningly didn't seem startled by the unexpected company. Some progress, there. "'Morning. I… woke up early, so I decided to try this new cupcake recipe." The young man's eyes and pale face gave away that he hadn't slept at all but David decided to let that slide, just this once.

Instead David reached out towards the delicacies that'd clearly just been pulled out of the oven. Truthfully, he was too impatient to wait for another second. He emitted a hum of appreciation as the taste swirled on his tongue. "You never seize to surprise, Doctor Reid."

Just before Spencer turned to start working on the dishes David was able to see a small yet genuine smile making its way to the traumatized man's lips. The sight made his whole body fill with warmth. Or maybe it was the cupcake.

"Well…", David mused out loud while swallowing down the last mouthfull. "If you're this into cooking I could try to find some recipies. There's a particularly mouth watering one for pineapple muffins."

Spencer, who'd been sorting out the dishes with his back to him, shuddered like someone who just got shot. There was also a sharp, gulp like intake of breath. If neither of those had been a giveaway sign the increasing trembling of Spencer's hands certainly was.

David frowned. "Reid?" Despite the worry swelling inside he schooled his voice into sounding calm and comforting. Only one of them could freak out at once. When there was no response he tried again. "Reid, what's wrong?"

Spencer swallowed once more, even more loudly. He was fairly sure that there was also a sob. "I just… Anya, she always craved pineapple muffins, when she was…" There was a prolonged silence. They both pretended not noticing how Spencer wiped his eyes. "They were our daughter's favorite", the genius whispered so softly that it was almost inaudible.

A sharp stab of ache crossed David. But amidst the sheer grief over everything Spencer had been pushed through a hint of hope rose. This was the first time the young man mentioned Anya and Diane willingly. If he played his cards right this might open up a route for some much needed talking. A route to proper recovery. "I'm sorry, that you had to go through something so…" He didn't even have a suitable word for it. He waited for a second, allowed the air to become a touch lighter. "I… understand what you're going through, in a way. So… If you ever want to talk about Diane, or anything else, I'm willing to listen." He knew that Spencer wasn't quite there yet, it was clear from every single unnaturally tense muscle and tightly held back outburst of emotion. But when the day came he needed Spencer to know that he was there.

Spencer shivered violently at first. But then, slowly, the genius began to relax and nodded. Clearly taking his words to heart.

The morning continued in a comfortable, companionable half silence.

* * *

_That day_, or rather night, came five days later. David was still up typing at two in the morning when he heard steps approaching his study. He lifted his gaze just in time to see a tall yet uncertain figure stood by the doorway. Lingering but not quite daring to enter.

There were scratch marks on Spencer's arms and a haunted look in the younger man's still moist eyes. Tears were no longer falling but it was easy to see that they did, hard, not too long ago. The genius' knuckles were reddened and almost broken from how hard he'd been tormenting the punching bag. Clearly it wasn't enough tonight.

Spencer breathed in a loud, shuddering breath. When the man spoke his voice sounded heartbreakingly small and hoarse, as though he'd been screaming for the longest time. "I… I think that I want to talk, now."

* * *

It took far longer than Spencer would've expected or wanted before he was finally ready to think about life beyond hiding around in David's mansion. But finally, after six long and hard weeks of fumbling steps forward, that moment finally dawned. When it did he called Derek.

Later that day they stood in one of the apartments that the older man had bought and renovated. It was bigger than would've been acutely necessary for one person but Spencer certainly didn't mind. After his time undercover in a sanitarium he hadn't been a big fan of small spaces. The neighborhood was also quite pleasant. And the apartment itself, with plenty of white and a small touch of light blue as well as huge windows that provided plenty of light, was a fantastic contrast to the shadows still haunting him.

It was the perfect place for starting anew.

There was a knowing smile on Derek's lips when his friend took in his reaction. "If the look on your face is anything to go by you like this." There was a brief silence during which they both looked around. "I'd let you stay for free but…"

"No charity, Morgan", Spencer announced firmly. "I… want to start a real, proper life. A normal life. Or well, as normal as a federal agent can have. Paying a rent is a part of it."

Derek blinked twice with surprise. Spencer didn't understand the reaction until the man spoke, audibly stunned yet very pleased. "That… was the first time you talked about coming back to work", the older agent pointed out, his eyes shining.

Spencer looked away instantly, focusing on the single fingerprint on one window that the other hadn't noticed and wiped away. "I'm… not sure, if that's an option anymore. I was a murder suspect. And the whole mess with my past and the Spider…"

"You stopped him and the entire organization", Derek reminded him firmly. "It took you years but you and… the others brought that nightmare to a end. You saved a lot of people and almost died in the process."

Spencer blinked quickly when a searing sensation took over his eyes. Flashes of Anya, their daughter and his slaughtered CIA-teammates rushed before his eyes. "I didn't save enough", he murmured.

"You saved everyone you could." Dereks' soft tone suggested that the man understood. "I know that it isn't easy. That it's going to take a lot of time to believe. But you saved everyone you could. And one day you're just going to have to accept that."

Spencer kept his silence. Let those words sink in and fill some of the cracks in his heart. When he spoke again he sounded just a little bit more like himself. "So… When can I move in?"

"As soon as you want to. I've got a key for you right now." Derek then seemed to come to think of something. "Oh yeah, just one thing I should warn you about… There's this older lady downstairs who…"

At that very moment the doorbell rang. Spencer stiffened and instinctively reached out for a gun that was no longer there. Derek didn't seem a lot more relaxed while making his way to the door with a suffering look on his face. The expression was explained easily enough as soon as the door opened.

Behind the door stood a woman in her early seventies with burgundy-dyed hair. There was a fresh baked apple pie in her hold and a sparkle of curiosity and mischief in her brown eyes. "Well hello. Derek here has been working on this apartment for months and now I finally see why." She winked not too suavely at Spencer. "It's very nice to have a new pair of lovebirds in."

Spencer's eyes met Derek's, screaming questions that had very clear answers. And at that moment they couldn't help it. They burst into a loud fit of laughter.

* * *

From the moment he was able to think at least somewhat rationally after his return Spencer was under no illusions. He knew that he was going to need _help_. Such that his BAU-family wouldn't be able to, or even should have to, offer him.

And so seven weeks and five days after his return Spencer sat in a car, staring at a building where he knew psychiatrist Dr. Clara Jones' office to be. He knew that his session was going to start in ten minutes but at the moment few things felt as unappealing as getting out of the vehicle's safety. If he was alone he might've simply driven off.

But for the very reason of seeing this moment of doubt coming he wasn't alone. He shivered upon feeling a hand on his and even panicked for a brief second. But then recognition dawned with Alex's soft voice. "So… Are you ready to go in?"

Spencer shook his head because he'd sworn to be honest. "But… I need this." If he wouldn't go in now he never would.

"Reid." There was a small, comforting smile on Alex's face. "It'll all go well. I promise. And when it's over I'll be waiting for you with coffee."

Spencer just had to smile at that, despite everything. He took a deep breath, bracing himself, then pushed himself out of the vehicle. Preparing himself for a brand new round of the battle that'd raged since he accepted Ian Hollard's invitation to join the CIA.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: That… was quite emotional. But at least it seems that Reid is still fighting. Starting to recover. (smiles)

Only one bit left, folks! (And DANG, how I'm going miss this story!) Are you all on board for that one? We'll be making a bit more drastica time skip, if you don't mind.

Until next time, ya all! I really hope that I'll meet you there.

Take care!

* * *

**Sniper**: Poor, poor Spencer, no? (sighs) But it seems that he's going to have plenty of help on his way to recovery.

Heh, and of course Mateo deserved his own time to shine!

I REALLY hope that the next one turns out worth the wait.

Merci beaucoup for your review!

* * *

**Patricia**: What he went through is absolutely horrible, isn't it? (winces) But thank gosh he has his BAU-family to help him cope! Let's hope that he'll hang in there.

I'm overjoyed to hear that you've enjoyed the story thus far so! I really hope that what's to come meets your expectations.

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	15. Epilogue part 3 of 3 – Time to Let Go

A/N: Yup, it's actually here. The very last chapter! It'll be extremely hard to let this one go.

First, though…! THANK YOU, so much, for your reviews for the previous chapter! (HUGS) They mean a lot, each and every single one of them.

Awkay, before I get cold feet… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Epilogue part three of three – Time to Let Go

* * *

Two and a half months after officially coming back to life Spencer faced one of the most unnerving bits of his return. JJ's family. Because of him Will got shot, almost died, and Henry was kidnapped. According to JJ Will had known the truth and Henry had been kept in the belief that he'd been on a top secret case. But it didn't make facing the people, the additional members of his makeshift family, that nearly died because of him any easier.

That's why Spencer shivered when it was Will who opened the door.

If the man noticed his discomfort it didn't show. "Hey. JJ and Henry went to buy some groceries but they'll be back soon. Come in."

Spencer did as he'd been told. The silence that hung between the two men was far heavier than it should've been. "I'm sorry", Spencer blurted out in the end, strongly and earnestly. Because he needed to say it before he'd enter the house properly.

Will frowned, momentarily lost as to what he meant. Then realization seemed to dawn. "It wasn't your fault, Spencer." There was nothing but sincerity in the man's eyes. "_None_ of it was your fault." All of a sudden it felt like they'd been having several conversations at once.

Spencer nodded stiffly and looked away, discomfort and relief both swelling deep within him.

"And Spencer?" Will's eyes were soft. Free of any accusations and ill will. "Thank you, for making sure that Henry would be safe."

Spencer smiled faintly. A bit uncertainly. "I'm his goddad. It's what I was supposed to do."

They'd been so lost into the conversation that both men jumped at the sound of the door opening. Spencer barely had the time to turn before something quite small and extremely lively had a pair of arms wrapped around him. "Uncle Spencer!" Good grief, how much Henry had grown in the time he was away! The child's eyes were shining. "Is the case over? Did you catch the bad guys?"

Something deep in Spencer shuddered. But looking at Henry's face, very familiar and entirely different all at once, he found it easy to smile. "Yeah. It's over now."

"Good!" Henry grinned. "After we've eaten I'll show you some magic tricks I've leaned. You're not gonna believe your eyes!"

Spencer gulped. "Uh… Henry, I…"

"Of course you're staying after dinner", JJ cut in, firmly yet gently. The look in her eyes would've made it impossible to deny her anything. "I insist."

Will smirked. "You'd better obey when she uses that tone. Trust me."

There, joining the Jareau-LaMontagne family for a meal, Spencer found something unexpected. Later on he couldn't even remember what they ate. All he remembered was that finally, finally, some of the weight of the world on his shoulders was eased off.

* * *

After his return it took seven months before Spencer could even consider returning to work. He was beyond grateful that Mateo Cruz had kept the spot open for him, had kept that home open for him. But returning still felt terrifying, even if it was to people he knew and definitely considered close to him.

As he stood in a elevator, all too aware of just how small the space around him was, Spencer couldn't keep himself from thinking back to when he started with the team. It was much too briefly after Anya and Diane had been murdered. He'd been suffering from PTSD, still traumatized and nearly reverted back to the bullied too young high school student he once was. Holding a gun had made him feel like the skin of his hands had been burned. The pretty much same feeling had been brought to his head by facing all those monsters and their victims. He'd been traumatized, terrified, angry, frustrated, confused and lost, unable to create any proper emotional bonds with anyone when his latest and most precious ones had been severed so violently. And the worst was that he'd never been able to reveal any of that to anyone. But during his first years as a FBI agent he marched on. He didn't come out as the same man he was before _everything_ but he was able to function and he was genuinely happy. He was even able to fall in love again, even if Maeve was stolen from him entirely too quickly and in a horrifyingly cruel manner. He didn't let the shattered pieces of his heart die but instead put them back together. What he created, however, came out distorded. The scars healed but improperly. And now, with the monster defeated, he faced the gruelling task of re-opening the wounds, cleansing them and willing them to mend once more. They'd never heal completely but at least it'd be good, honest, proper recovery. This, coming back to work, was a huge step on the way.

The elevator's doors opened and Spencer couldn't keep himself from freezing to the spot. At first he simply stared. Then, unable and frankly unwilling to hold himself back, he burst into a laugh.

There was a massive banderole that said _'WELCOME BACK – WE MISSED YOU!_' waiting for him, along with the entire team.

Seeing his positive reaction clearly calmed down the others and he couldn't help wondering what, exactly, they'd been dreading. Penelope cut his intensions of asking short. "I know, I know. You kept telling me that you didn't want anything special. But with how long you've been away you owed us the chance to pamper you a bit."

Spencer chuckled, feeling a hint of heat on his cheeks. He'd never been good at receiving attention like this. "I, um… Thank you." It was the most honest and sincere reaction he could muster. He could only hope that they understood how much more he was thanking for than just the greeting. He cleared his throat. "So… We have a case, right?"

David grinned a bit slyly. "Not so fast." The man pulled out a cake cutter. "First there's a chocolate cake that demands your undivided attention."

As they ate Spencer found himself relaxing in a manner that he hadn't been able to muster in years. His eyes softened while he watched the easy banter between his BAU-family. There was a huge hole in his heart that nothing would be able to fill. But at the moment everything felt a bit more alright in the world.

Sensing someone's gaze he glanced up to see chief Cruz leaning against the room's doorway. They looked at each other, something akin to deep understanding in their eyes. The question was loud and clear in the air. Spencer replied with a firm and unhesitant nod, meaning it from the bottom of his heart.

And nothing else needed to be said.

* * *

A couple of months later Spencer faced a night that felt longer and harder than most. There was a entirely too familiar fire burning in his veins, enforced by the injection of sweet poison that Bell gave him. The power of the cravings was immense. But Spencer refused to go down with it. He owed Anya, Diane, his team and himself more. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and forced his mind to other matters.

That was when he realized that there was a long overdue text message he'd been meaning to send. So he took a deep breath, then opened his eyes. Typing it was easier than he thought.

'_I do understand why you had to do it. And I understand why you felt the need to leave afterwards. I'm sorry that it took me this long to tell you so_.'

Emily Prentiss' response came after an hour, twenty minutes and fifteen seconds.

'_Open the door_.'

Stunned, Spencer stared at his cell phone until he managed to gather his wits. His feet didn't feel entirely steady, mostly due to several sleepless nights, when he made his way to the door and opened it. What he found was Emily. She had a copy of '_Solaris_' and popcorn along.

Emily shrugged and smiled, clearly amused by his stunned reaction. "I… was visiting because of a case and was wondering if you wanted to hang out. It's been a while."

Slowly, slowly, a hint of a smile made its way to Spencer's lips. "Well, uh… We never did go and see that movie." There was an apology and forgiveness in his tone.

Emily's eyes radiated the same. She nodded. "No, we didn't."

They spent the night watching the movie and eating popcorn. Recalling the good times and trying not to focus too hard on the bad. In the end they both relaxed enough to fall asleep on the sofa, the demons of their past vanquished for a while.

The following day Spencer waited until Emily had to leave. He watched her making her way to her car and disappear. Then he took the resignation form he'd filled out before her arrival during the dark hours of the previous night. He tore it to shreds.

* * *

It was a tough case. Five men lost their lives. And when they found the UnSub they were in for another shock. The killer was a sixteen years old girl who had a seven months old baby. They used up all their persuasion skills but nothing managed to save the troubled soul. The girl took her own life before their eyes, leaving her daughter crying miserably. Spencer was the first one to react to the heartbreaking sound. The genius' eyes seemed far from dry while he scooped the child into his arms and held the still whimpering infant close, so that she heard his heartbeat. During the following six minutes of chaos, during which everyone else focused on the killer, Spencer managed to soothe the baby entirely. With a look of grief and longing in his eyes.

The rest of the team could only watch because they knew that this was something Spencer needed. They understood his pain yet knew that there was little they could do to take it away. They could only stay and be there.

It took the paramedics the total of twenty minutes to coax the baby from Spencer's arms. During the hassle the little one grew agitated again and the look in Spencer's eyes exploded to helpless fury. In the end he was left standing there, staring nothing short of miserably towards where the child was taken.

Alex was the one who acted first. Without saying a word she took Spencer's hand and led him away from the scene. Away from the blood. Away from the echoes of the baby's cries. Away from the memories. As soon as they'd reached a quiet, isolated corner she wrapped her arms around him and held him close, as she once did with Ethan.

It took a while and at firs the way Spencer stiffened had her worried that she'd done the wrong thing. But then his body began to produce entirely too recognizeable shudders. Alex held Spencer even tighter while he cried silently. She held on and tried to remind him that there were plenty of reasons for him to do the same.

Spencer didn't let go.

* * *

Several hours passed by before the team was finally in their jet, on their way back home. Most of them were fast asleep. Upon returning from getting himself some coffee Derek discovered that Spencer wasn't. His eyebrow arched slightly when he noticed that the doctor was looking at a photograph, intense longing in his eyes. The picture was hidden as soon as the younger man caught him watching.

"Hey!" Derek protested gently. He took his seat on the opposite side of the genius. "You do realize that you don't need to hide stuff like that, right?"

Appearing sheepish and more than a little torn Spencer nodded slowly. Then made up his mind. The hand pushing the photograph towards him wasn't steady.

Derek had seen a lot of crime scene photos of Anya's murder. It felt bizarre and incredibly sad to see her smiling face, to notice all the life and joy sparkling in her eyes. "She was beautiful."

Spencer nodded once more, his eyes softening. "And smart. Even though she preferred tea over coffee."

That… was an unexpected opening. One that Derek was eager to try. He chuckled. "That must've been a shock for you." He offered a rope to grab a hold of, hoping that Spencer would take it.

Spencer did. The genius smiled, even if there was more than a hint of sadness in it. "It was." There was a long, tense moment of hesitation, there. But in the end the younger agent ventured on, cautiously but still. "I… I thought about proposing her with a ring in a coffee mug."

Derek grinned. "Well. That does sound like you."

Spencer smiled again, then grew very serious all of a sudden. The man looked out the jet's window although it was clear that his eyes didn't see much at the moment. Several minutes passed by before more was spoken. "Today… Today's the anniversary of their…" Apparently 'murder' was still too heavy and bitter of a word.

A jolt of ache made itself known inside Derek. "I'm sorry", he half-whispered. "I forgot."

Spencer bit his lip hard. "It's okay." Of course it wasn't. "I… I didn't remember, either."

Ah, yes. Pieces slid into place. Derek sighed. "Reid… We've been working on a case. She'd understand." Years would pass by. More of these… _dates_, anniversaries and milestones, would be forgotten. It was a part of the healthy process of moving on. That's why Derek didn't want Spencer to look like the man currently did every time a special day was missed. Especially a dark one.

Derek had never gotten the chance to know Anya. But if she was the kind of a woman that had Spencer falling in love with her… Then surely she wouldn't have wanted him to hang on to the worst parts of the past for the rest of his life.

Spencer looked at him, so many emotions dancing in those hazel pools that it was impossible to name them all. Then gasped out like he'd been without breath for too long. "I know." The air between them said a lot more. "Anya… She was always horrible, at remembering dates."

On his seat behind Spencer's back Aaron, who'd been feigning sleep, risked a tiny, entirely too rare smile. Then, deciding to give the two some actual privacy, he relaxed and began to really drift off. He made a mental note to give the team a couple of days off.

* * *

On the two year anniversary of the Web's end Spencer found himself from a place that he hadn't visited in years. It was a place that he thought he'd never see again. His feet felt unsteady and his eyes stung hellishly but he held on with the sheer power of his will. Determined to do this, to finally truly say goodbye.

No matter how painful it was to see Anya and their daughter's names on the stone.

But at least he wasn't alone. Beside him Abigail Holmes – or Austin, as he was still determined to call her – trembled while she stared at the headstone. A couple of tears shone on the woman's cheeks. This was the first time she ever saw her sister's, and her niece's, grave. Her undercover mission never allowed her to attend to the funeral.

Almost instinctively her hand grabbed his. After a moment's confusion Spencer felt his fingers tightening. It was nothing romantic, merely a moment of profound understanding between two battered survivors.

She was the last Holmes left.

He'd also had his family stolen from him, before he ever even really had it.

She was his last remaining link to Anya.

He was the same to her.

And that's why today they stood before the horrible burden of saying goodbye side by side.

Spencer was relieved when Abigail spoke first because he just didn't have the words. Her voice sounded foreign and it wasn't just because of the British accent he was still getting used to. "I… I'm still mad at you for leaving me here alone. You were never supposed to get involved in… that. Any of it. I guess I should've known that you're too stubborn to stay out." She wiped her eyes roughly. "Just… Take care, yeah? Of you both. And know that I'll never, ever forget about you. Or the boys. I'll try to stick around a bit longer and I'd like to imagine that you four will be looking out for me. There'll be one hell of a family reunion when I get there." A subtle hand caressed the tattoo that her coat covered at the moment, most likely subconsciously. It was the initials of her siblings and Diane. '_WSSH, MTSH, AICH, DHEH_.' As if she would've needed the tattoo to remember, for the rest of her days. But then again, Spencer had a similar. He'd fixed the tattoo a little after Bell's handling but not entirely. The ugly scar the madman left added a new, deeper meaning to the picture that he couldn't bring himself to erase.

When Abigail stopped talking, wiping her eyes, Spencer realized that it was his turn. His stomach knotted and shifted uncomfortably while he stared at the names. He swallowed hard. "I… I don't think that I'll ever forgive myself for not making it there in time. But… It's something that I'll have to learn to live with. Because… Well, it looks like there's something more that I'm supposed to do, if I've been forgotten down here." His hand caressed the smooth, black surface. Just like it caressed Anya, once upon a time. "But even though I'm not going to follow you two for a bit… Remember that I'll never, ever stop missing you or loving you, for even a second. I may be moving on but your memory will always be there with me. You were the best things that have ever happened to me and… Well, no matter how much it hurts I'll be eternally grateful that I had you." Spencer's lips kept opening but no more words willed their way through his lips. Perhaps he'd already uttered everything that there was to say. He felt oddly drained but also far more at peace than he ever had since the day he lost his precious girls.

Neither he or Abigail was quite sure how long they stood there. But eventually they came to the conclusion that they couldn't just stand there, stuck on past, forever. So, exchanging a loudly speaking look that whispered of all the longing and also cautious hope swelling in their hearts, they took their leave. Side by side, continuing on together because they knew that neither would've found the strength alone just yet.

And in the horizon, with a lazily rising sun, a new day dawned.

* * *

_All the hurt, all the lies_  
_ All the tears that they cry_  
_ When the moment is just right_  
_ You see fire in their eyes_

_'Cause he's stronger than you know_  
_ A heart of steel starts to grow_

_When you've been fighting for it all your life_  
_ You've been struggling to make things right_  
_ That's how a superhero learns to fly_  
_ Every day, every hour_  
_ Turn the pain into power_

_When you've been fighting for it all your life_  
_ You've been working every day and night_  
_ That's how a superhero learns to fly_

(The Script: 'Superheroes')

* * *

**_End._**

* * *

A/N: My gosh…! I seriously can't believe that it's over. But at least it was a happy ending. Hooray!

THANK YOU, so much, to all of you for sticking around through this entire ride! And a special thank you for all the reviews, listings, love and support! I seriously can't believe that so many of you ventured through this with me. (HUGS)

Thoughts? Comments? I'd LOVE to hear your verdict on this ending.

This story is over. But who knows, maybe I'll be seeing you with another one…?

In any case, thank you, and take care!

* * *

**Patricia**: It sure did! But it seems that Reid's finally on his way towards the better. (smiles) We'll see what happens during the last bit.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

**Sniper**: Awww, that's sooooo good to hear! I really hope that the chapter turns out worthy of your expectations.

Merci BEAUCOUP for your review!


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